


A Lioness Amongst Wolves.

by Ghilliegirl57



Category: Pilgrimage - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2019-04-20 19:43:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 107,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14268198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghilliegirl57/pseuds/Ghilliegirl57
Summary: Raymond de Merville is in the marriage market but has he met his match in every sense of the word?





	1. Chapter 1

“Holy Mary Mother of God, I wish it would rain.”

The sun has been baking the ground and searing the crops for almost three weeks and it is yet a week to the shortest day of the year. It is so dry that the air burns the throat with every breath taken and dust rises in choking clouds at every step along the road. It is market day and the peddlers, merchants and farmers wives have been here since an hour after dawn, anxious to sell their wares and depart before the heat makes the day even more unbearable.

I walk among the stalls with Jehanne Mercier the seamstress from the Manor and we have Julot the scolland in tow.

It is already stiflingly hot and I can feel sweat running down my back and between my breasts, at least I am wearing a dark gown it will not show. I have already sought out the small items my Aunt, who requires, sewing needles, coloured threads and a needle box. Jehanne haggles for linen and fine woollen cloth which cannot be woven at the Manor, she has already beaten the merchant down twice on his exorbitant price. Julot dawdles along behind us, alternately grumbling, picking his nose and scratching his arse. He is here merely on sufferance so that he can help carry our purchases home.

All eyes, mine included, turn towards the noise as a small group of horsemen canter into the centre of the market place. They are swathed in the dust they kick up and it settles down on the riders and horses alike, coating them with a fine dun coloured bloom.

Seven riders, one at the front the others behind in two rows of three. Unusually none of them are wearing their helmets but have fastened them to their saddles, the lead rider appears to be looking for someone or something and as they slow to a walk he stands up in his stirrups to look around the market place. He smiles, apparently he has found what he was searching for and heads in our direction

 ** _“Merde!”_** The appearance of this man and his well born “thugs” generally spells trouble for someone or other.

He reins up beside us and I whisper in Jehannes ear “I wonder what he wants, I can’t imagine he’s come to buy ribbons, threads or a pot to piddle in” Her reply is a loud snorting laugh, it is not a ladylike noise and it attracts attention.

“Something amuses you, woman?” the voice is deep, rich, carries more than an edge of brutality and is accompanied by a fierce stare.

Jehanne is unusually flustered under his glare and her customary bravado withers a little as she casts her glance downwards and mumbles “Nothing Sieur Raymond, nothing”

From his vantage point Raymond looks down at the women, the one he has cowed is of little interest but the one standing next to her he knows, she is the reason for his being here today. This woman does not look away but fixes him with a stare of her own. He leans forward resting his forearms on the pommel of his saddle, reins held loosely in his right hand.

“I know you, you are Isabé, a companion in the household of Henri Bouvier” He leans down towards me. “Isabé Pelletier and we have met before I think”

“I have seen you at my Uncle’s house Sieur Raymond”

I make sure he knows I am no mere companion for Henri’s wife, I am family. Why does the way he says my name send a shiver through me and why should he even care to make note of it?

In one swift move he dismounts and comes to stand in front of me. His eyes never leave mine. There is a slight frown on his brow as he cocks his head this way and that examining my face, then he lets his gaze sweep over me, from head to foot as if he were appraising the finer points of a good brood mare.

Even in this heat I shiver.

“Sieur Raymond, if you will excuse me, I am expect at the Manor.” I drop him a curtsey and linking arms with Jehanne try to make my way past him. But he is fast, very fast and he snakes his right arm across my body to stop me. Smiling now Raymond slides his gloved hand slowly down from my waist to my hip and lets it settle there as he pulls me closer. I glare at him but even through the layers of cloth and the leather of his glove, I feel the heat of his touch. He smirks down at me as if daring me to make a scene but there is no amusement in his eyes rather curiosity.

“You two” he gestures with his other hand towards Jehanne and Julot “Go back to the Manor, I shall escort Mam’selle Pelletier. Jehanne looks shocked and is about to speak but I cut in.

“Jehanne, go, tell Madame I am delayed but will be there presently”

“But she will want to know why you are delayed”

“Tell her” I had best choose my words carefully “Tell my Aunt her that Sieur Raymond de Merville has….” I hesitate. “Has taken it upon himself escort me safely home”

“But Isabé you will have no woman to accompany you”

Raymond barks out a laugh. “She has me and six of my men, she will need no one else, now go, be on your way.”

Jehanne scuttles away telling Julot not to dawdle and to make sure he understands, she fetches him a smack across the back of his head as she passes.

Raymond still has his arm across me, still lets his hand rest heavily on my hip as if I was his personal property. “Let me go Sieur, you show a lack of courtesy, I ask that you have some thought for my reputation even if  you care little your own” then I add in a soft voice as I smile sweetly up at him. “But then why would you, since it has long been tarnished”

Mon Dieu why did I say that and why have I not tried to pull away from him?

The smirk disappears and is replaced by a feral smile as he holds me even tighter to him. Those blue eyes have no warmth, they are like ice as he slowly traces the gloved fingers of his left hand down my cheek then curls them under my chin in a firm grip, tipping my face up and dropping his own face closer to mine. Now, there is nothing wrong with saying that Raymond is handsome for it is true. Oh yes in spite of his battle hardened face and the scar that marks his face from his right temple to the corner of his right eye, he is indeed an extremely handsome man with incredible blue eyes. Though he is certainly an arrogant Bastard.

I am conscious of his men sniggering and have the feeling that everyone in the marketplace has their eyes upon us. But I will not give in and lock my gaze to his, Raymond drops his forehead to mine his breath smells of cloves and cinnamon and the warm scent of lemon and hyssop drifts up from the exposed skin of his neck and throat.

My mouth is suddenly dry and I lick at my lips, I can’t help it but all the same I bring up my right arm and land as hard slap as I can manage on his cheek. It is a stinging blow and his head snaps back and to the side. As he turns to face me I see the mark beginning to redden on his face as retribution and in an effort to shame me more he grazes his lips against mine, they are warm and I feel the brush of his short beard against my skin as his voice rumbles low in his throat .

“I think I like you Isabé, you have spirit, but a word of warning Cheri, do not suppose for one moment that I would ever allow you do that again.”

I have never been one to resist a challenge and I try once more to lay a fierce slap on him but he seizes my right wrist, curling his fingers around it in a powerful grip that makes me wince. Hoping he is distracted I swing my left hand but he grasps that also and pins my arms to my sides. Without warning his mouth is on mine again but this time hard and fierce and he takes my lower lip between his teeth and rakes them over the flesh. Just as suddenly he releases his hold on me, his expression gives away nothing, but his eyes are no longer cold then he grins and he leans in towards me again and whispers.

“You are brave Mam’selle, or is it merely bravado hein? 

I will not show him any weakness. But suddenly I am lifted off my feet and I let out a squeak as he swings me up into the saddle then vaults up and settles behind me.  Instructing his men to follow, we proceed at a gentle pace. Raymond has his arm tight around me, my back is pressed so firmly against him I feel the metal of his belt and the rings of his mail pressing into my back. Truly I am glad not to be walking, it is hotter than ever now but more humid, the blue sky is dulling and changing to a sickly grey, my leg aches and I shall be glad to sit and sew with my Aunt in the coolness of her private room for the rest of the day.

There are no more words spoken between us and when we arrive at the Manor, Raymond helps me dismount, his hands firm around my waist as I slide from the horse. He holds me just a little too long and by the time he releases his hold my Uncle and Aunt are waiting to greet him.

“Henri, Blanche” 

Sieur Raymond de Merville and Henri Bouvier must be of an age, though there the similarity ends. Henri Bouvier is several inches shorter and though once muscular he is running to fat a little, his hair is almost grey, his eyes a little dull and he is no longer the battle hardened warrior. Henri is settling into comfortable retirement.

On the other hand Raymond de Merville stands over six feet tall, broad shoulders, broad chest. His hair is still dark with only a little grey at the temples and he wears it in a typical soldiers cut, longer on the top but shaved close all the way round from the tops of his ears downwards. Raymond still conducts and carries himself like a soldier he walks with a warrior’s grace and easy stride and is not the kind of man to sink into contented old age.

“Sieur Raymond your men are welcome to ride around to the kitchens, there is food and drink for them whilst they wait.” Madam Blanche Bouvier curtseys and Raymond takes her hand and brings it to his lips, something I would never have imagined him doing.

“Blanche please, no formality our families have known each other too long for that.” and he tosses the reins of his horse to a young rider. “Your son Guillaume does you credit Blanche” he nods towards him “I could not wish for better Squire.” Blanche gives the wide smile that only a mother could and flushes with pride.

Aunt Blanche gestures me forward and sweeps into the house with me beside her, the moment we are inside she turns to me smiling.

Isabé “quickly my dear go and change into your best dress then join us in our private chamber.” Jehanne comes in from the back of the house, she too has changed her clothes, brushed and rebraided her hair and there is a faint scent of lavender about her. My look says “What in God’s name is going on” Her only answer is a shrug and a shake of her head before she disappears into the chamber.

“Hurry girl, off with you” I have a fleeting but uncomfortable feeling that this visit is not entirely unexpected and I stare at my Aunt waiting for an explanation, but there is nothing forthcoming.

“Isabé I will not tell you again, now go.” With that I am dismissed, and make my way up to the room I share with Jehanne.

As quickly as I can I strip, then dip a cloth into cold water, I hesitate then pour a few drops of my precious Rosewater into it and swirl them around before squeezing out the cloth and wiping it over my face, breasts and under my arms.”

Cleansed of the dust, my hair combed and with the faint scent of roses clinging to my skin I slip on my best dress, clean hose and indoor shoes.

The dress is dark blue, Aunt Blanche says that it sets off the colour of my hair and that it deepens the colour of my eyes, making them look like rain washed slate.

Why am I doing this, what is so important that I must wear my best dress? I have no more time to think for I can hear Jehanne outside the door.

“Isabé, Isabé your Aunt is asking for you, she wishes you to come downstairs, now!”

“Calm yourself, I’m coming” and I step out into the corridor. “What’s going on Jehanne?”

“I don’t know, like you I was told to put on my best clothes and wait with them in the chamber.”  There is a slight frown on her face. “Sieur Raymond must have some very important business here.” She takes me by the hand and we bustle down the stairs, although my childhood injury means my steps are not as graceful as hers.

The private chamber of my Aunt and Uncle is at the rear of the manor and even though the sun slants through the window openings it is deliciously cool. This is where they can be quiet, where my Uncle sometimes conducts business and where honoured guests are invited to sit and take a glass of my Uncles finest wine.

But when we enter Raymond de Merville is standing and his presence fills the room, he owns it, has taken it over and made it his to command. Dear God but he is handsome, only an idiot would say otherwise. Oh yes, he is indeed an extremely handsome man.

“Ahhhh Isabé, come” I step towards my Aunt with my slightly halting gait, she holds out her hands and I take them in mine searching her face and her eyes for any hint as to what is happening. A kiss on each cheek and then she hands me a goblet.

“Wine for you my dear, to toast your good fortune, this family is being honoured for the second time. Guillaume has already been taken into the service of Sieur Raymond, but for you Isabé the honour is even greater.

**_“Dieu, what now?”_ **

“We are so happy for you Isabé, as your guardians we are delighted that Sieur Raymond has asked for your hand in marriage”


	2. Chapter 2

I cannot believe the words that drop from my aunt’s lips “Surely not” I look from her to my Uncle who has a broad smile on his face, then across to Raymond who lifts one corner of his mouth in a slight smile, he steps forward.

  
“Indeed Mam’selle, I have observed you at a distance for some time and from that and other reports, I know how you conduct yourself.”  
So it seems that he has had me watched and the regular visits to the Manor on the pretence of visiting my Uncle, have been nothing more than a means of observing me at close quarters.

**_  
“I doubt you know much about me and there is no way in Hell I shall marry you” _ **

  
“Sieur Raymond, I hope you will forgive me if I speak my mind”

  
He cracks a laugh that is almost pleasant. “From what I gather there is nothing ever stops you from doing that Isabé”  
I swallow hard feeling the flush rise in my cheeks.  
“Even so I cannot believe you would waste your time in choosing me,” I spread my arms wide and look down to my feet. “I am sure Sieur Raymond, indeed I can promise you, I shall make you a poor and unsatisfactory wife. There must be many women who would be far better equipped to fill that role”  
I have given him the choice of continuing with this idiocy or retreating gracefully. His answer is swift and direct. 

 

“They may consider themselves so but if you want the truth of it, I am sickened by the way every noble family has paraded their daughters in front of me, in the hope that I will take one of their idiot, whey faced bitches as my wife.” He stands almost toe to toe with me. “It will not happen, I need someone who can haul the Chateau into shape and make it what it once was. It has been without a Chatelaine for too long, yes for far too long  
It seems there are unspoken words hanging between us, his eyelids flicker and I imagine he is thinking of his long dead Mother.  
“I believe you are the woman who can take on the task”

 

“Let me understand you Sieur, you don’t need a wife so much as housekeeper”

“What is a wife, but that, oh and of course a vessel for her husbands seed, a bearer of his children”  
Raymond is a harsh man, not given to covering his words in honey. I can respect that, for I am not known for always having a sweet and ladylike tongue.

  
Aunt Blanche gives the slightest gasp, Uncle Henri laughs and slaps Raymond on the shoulder I just glare at him. I am not a virgin, though thank God my Aunt does not know, but I would be the first to admit my experience of men is somewhat limited.

 

“I cannot accept Sieur Raymond”

  
I keep my voice low, meek and so full of respect that it sounds utterly insulting. That should have been my only answer but as usual I cannot leave well alone.  
“To be honest, Sieur you would have to drag me hand tied and hobbled to the church steps before I would marry you”

There is absolute silence

  
Raymond’s voice slides through the air, a lazy drawl edged with hint of menace.

 

“Mon Chéri Isabé, please be sure that if I thought it was the only way, then I would not hesitate do drag you there.”

 

We glare at each other, he stands relaxed and easy, confident in his own strength and power.  Me, I feel as if I am twisted and tight and I am thankful there is nothing close at hand which I can throw at him.

 

**_ “I will make your life hell”   _ ** but  the words only run in my head.

 

Suddenly my Uncle steps forward and grasps my arm “It is arranged girl you have no choice, the contract is signed, the dowry is agreed on and given, and so you will be married to Raymond de Merville a week from today, Midsummers day”

 

“Very well, if that is what you wish.” My voice is flat, I drop the slightest curtesy to Raymond and scowl at him earning an arrogant smile in return “But have a care Sieur Raymond, you may regret your choice for I am not one of those idiot whey faced bitches you speak of.”

 

As I sweep out of the room I hear Blanche call my name, I pretend not to hear her, but above all I hear Raymond’s sonorous laugh echoing around. It works under my skin and makes me feel something I don’t want to feel. 

  
Jehanne, stands aside quietly with a smirk settling across her face.

Blanche follows me. “Isabé I know this is a shock to you, but you have been raised to behave better than this, you have not been given leave to go and Raymond wishes to speak with you privately I have agreed.”

I spin round to face her and for the moment I dare not speak, because the words I would choose would certainly shock her, so I resign myself to a sour look and a rolling of my eyes.

“Isabé you are a grown woman, behave like one. This is an excellent match, Raymond could have his choice of women but he chooses you it is an honour.” 

 

“An honour for whom Aunt, for you and Uncle Henri?”

 

The moment the words fall from my lips I wish I could take them back, it is an unworthy accusation, her face pales and from her look you would think I had slapped her.  
“Aunt Blanche forgive me, I…”

She holds up her hand to stop me. “You will go back to the chamber Raymond is waiting for you there, Jehanne will be your chaperone.” 

 

“I really do not feel I have anything more to say to Sieur Raymond, it is agreed that we shall marry what else is there to talk about?”

 

“No more argument, now go he is waiting for you” her voice softens  into her more familiar tone, “Isabé, this will be the making of you.” She smiles at me that wide, beautiful smile that I have known all my life. “You are strong in spirit, clever, resourceful you deserve this chance?” Her hand is cool as she lays it against my cheek “Who knows, my dear in time you may come to love Raymond de Merville, or at least grow fond of him” 

“At the risk of offending you Aunt Blanche, it is more likely that His Holiness the Pope will dance naked on the steps of his palace, than I will ever come to love that arrogant Bastard or that he will come to love me”

 

“Isabé!” Her voice is sharp, but then she presses her lips tightly together to hold back a smile. “Go, Raymond is waiting”  
Blanch smiles as I walk away and then sighs,   
_**“Dear lord give Raymond strength he will need it, he has no idea what he is taking into his life”**_

 

I take a deep breath, tilt up my chin and fix a smile on my face, as I enter the chamber I swear I hear Aunt Blanche stifle a laugh.

 

Raymond sets down his goblet of wine, frowns slightly then watches with interest as Isabé crosses the room. Her limp seems a little more pronounced than before. Is she tired, does her leg pain her?  Her cheeks seem a little paler and in spite of the smile set firm on her lips, the notices that the mask of confidence he saw earlier has slipped a little. 

 

**_ “Why in God’s name do I care? _ **

 

But there is still something of the fire and fight there. She is not a beauty, though her features are pleasant enough and that hair, it hangs thick, straight and so pale. He wonders how it would feel brushing gently over his skin or wound tightly between his fingers as he takes her. That thought is abandoned as she addresses him.

 

“Sieur Raymond, you wish to speak with me?”

 

“Yes there are things I would say to you” He stretches out his hand palm down, I place mine atop it and he escorts me out into that private part of the garden, usually only frequented by my Aunt. Jehanne follows at a respectable distance but at the first stone bench she leaves us to go and sit in the shade whilst we walk the paths.  
The air is thick with the perfume of flowers, bees swarm noisily around the Melissa and Lavender and the slightest tread on the chamomile releases its scent. Anyone glancing at Jehanne would think her to be asleep, but no, from her almost closed eyes she watches with great interest and some amusement as the couple stroll around, she knows that this match will be nothing if not interesting. There is an energy about them you can feel it, the very air seems to crackle between them and Jehanne is not sure whether it is borne of a mutual dislike or something quite different.

Isabé has removed her hand from Raymond’s now but they are so close together as they walk, they almost brush against each other and short as she is she must look up and Raymond look down when they speak for he is so much the taller.

  
There is a breeze freshening now, storm clouds are rolling in and the sky is turning to leaden grey.

“Isabé though I do not owe you any explanations, as a courtesy I will enlighten you as to how this marriage will be conducted” Raymond’s voice is low, his tone firm.  
That rankles me, for the simple statement makes it plain that the small liberties I have been allowed and enjoyed in this house will not be forthcoming at the Chateau. I do not answer.

With a quick, graceful move Raymond stops walking and steps around in front of Isabé. His face is in shadow but it cannot hide the hard glittering blue of his eyes as he looks down at her. it will be better that you do not delude yourself into thinking that this is anything other than a marriage of convenience” He sets his jaw “I am no longer a young man, indeed I am more than old enough to be your father but I need an heir, the name of de Merville cannot be allowed to die out. You are young and strong and the day you bear me a son then I shall leave you be and you may do as you wish provided you are discreet. The Chateau needs a Chatelaine, you need a husband and in truth I doubt anyone else would care to offer for you”

 

Strangely there is no arrogance in his voice, just a matter of fact telling of the truth, even so my temper is bubbling and I have difficulty keeping my hands by my sides, they itch to slap him again.

 

“Sieur Raymond I need no husband, I would be quite content to remain here in my spinsterish state and save you the trouble of bothering with me.” I can’t keep the anger from my voice any longer. “Go and marry a nobleman’s daughter, or get yourself a bastard on some whore and have him made legitimate.”

I spin way from him then just as quickly turn back. “If you think that I am going to work myself to the bone for you and the Baron, just to bring that hell hole back to some semblance of order, or simply lay on my back and think of France whenever you decide you want to fuck my brains out, then you had better think again.” 

 

Raymond is not used to a woman who can and will stand up to him or curse at him in such a way, his eyes pop wide, his brow furrows and he wears a furious expression. Stepping forwards his eyes never leave Isabé’s face, his lips are drawn into a thin tight line and he halts so close to her that she must tip her head back a little to look at him.

 

“Mam’selle if you behave in such a way when we are married, then be certain that I will exercise my right as your husband to discipline you in any way I choose. You will behave in a manner befitting the wife of a de Merville.”  
He unnerves me but I will never let him know that.  I smile sweetly up at him but I’m sure my eyes tell a different tale, my Aunt calls them my Lionesses eyes, unblinking and calculating. 

“You must take me as you find me Raymond de Merville for I will not be cowed by you, nor will I walk with my eyes cast down like some green girl who knows no different, or trail behind you like a pet dog waiting for scraps”

Raymond’s voice is a low growl now, rumbling from his chest. “You are no pet dog woman, but I have no doubt you are a bitch, hein” 

 

“Bastard” My voice echoes around the small garden and hangs heavy on the air.

  
Jehanne is on her feet and stepping towards me even as I slam the palms of my hands hard against his chest not once but twice. It has no effect on this battle hardened soldier, nonetheless he steps back from me a humourless smile on his face, the scar on his temple seems livid in the now sombre light.  
I see my chance again, but this time I sweep a backhanded blow across his face. Retribution is swift and the force of his slap sends me staggering backwards into Jehanne.

“I warned you, I will not tolerate such behaviour” He lo oks over my head “Take Mam’selle inside Jehanne” and he snaps at me. “Isabé you are to be packed and ready when I arrive at noon tomorrow”  


 

I feel my breath catch in my throat and I croak. “Tomorrow, but…”

  
“Tomorrow” He strides past me without another look.

Raymond suddenly feels something that has not touched him for years, he feels shame. As a young man he had vowed he would never treat a woman the way his Mother had been treated but somewhere in his hard and battle weary life he had broken that vow and had become his Father. Somewhere deep in the granite of his heart, he knows he should turn back and speak again to Isabé but his stubborn pride will not allow it.

 

“Jehanne, does my Aunt know of this?”  
She strokes my face and hugs me as I slump against her. “I believe so , but I’m sure she will not mind me telling you that if you will have me, I am to accompany you as your maid and Mathilde will take my place here.”   


“Oh as if I could leave here without you Jehanne, you are my friend not my servant”   
The pair of us jump suddenly as lightning flashes across the sky, thunder brattles around us and as fat raindrops begin to fall we scurry back to the house.  
Raymond is taking his leave of my Aunt and Uncle and I drop him the briefest of curtsies as I pass.

 

“Isabé, where are your manners, come and bid Raymond farewell until tomorrow”  
Her eyes narrow as she sees the reddening mark on my cheek,  I brazen it out an offer no explanation.  
“We have said our farewells Aunt Blanche and I am sure Sieur Raymond will understand that I have things I must do before I leave for the Chateau tomorrow.”  
I glare at him, daring him to say otherwise and I am truly shocked when he steps towards me, takes hold of both my hands and leans down to brush his lips gently against one cheek then the other. His eyes are an entirely different shade of blue now, warmer, kinder and there is the hint of a smile on his lips.

  
“But of course Chéri, until tomorrow” He bows his head and steps away “Henri, Blanche until tomorrow” he strides towards the kitchen, calling for his men.

 

How my legs do not fold beneath me as I make my way up to my room I do not know, they feel no stronger than two lengths of cord. I sit down heavily on the edge of my bed and I begin to shake but I will not cry, yes I am anxious but I will rise to this challenge. Sieur Raymond confuses me, his farewell surprised me but he will not intimidate me I will not allow it, though I may need to fight my battle in a different way.    
Suddenly, I see his eyes again and I it occurs to me that what I saw in them a few moments ago was pain and despair and it was all-consuming and soul destroying.


	3. Chapter 3

By the time Raymond makes his way into the sweltering kitchen where his men are enjoying their ale and kicking their heels waiting for him, his mind is whirling, he cannot fathom Isabé. She is even more feisty and waspish than he’d been led to believe by her cousin Guillaume, on the other hand she is quick, clever and he has to admit, she is brave. Isabé Pelletier may be wary of him but she is most certainly not afraid.

He strides out of the Manor, swings up into the saddle and begins to ride away before his men are even mounted. He can’t recall ever having met a woman like her. Oh certainly there have been those who have tried to stand up to him, change him, fetter him but none have ever succeeded. The Ladies and Noblewomen who offer themselves to him do not last long, More often than not they are grasping, mean-spirited and have worse morals and manners than the whores he’s bedded. Either that or they are romantic dreamers, compliant and even a little pathetic. But they all in their own way try to mould him into the man they wish him to be. 

But Isabé. He shakes his head quickly as if to rid his mind of her, Isabé is a different prospect, though loathe to admit it there is something about her he can’t help but admire. Raymond has the uncomfortable feeling that if he should allow it, she will become an itch he cannot scratch. Therefore he will not allow it.  
In spite of himself he rides around to the front of the Manor and looks up, she is there gazing out of the window and she catches sight of him. For a few seconds they hold each other’s look, then Raymond gives a curt nod turns, and rides away with his men now gathered behind him.

The rain is hammering down now. I should be preparing for my departure tomorrow, but I have no heart for it so I idle my time away and lean out of the window breathing in the scent of damp earth. The wind has freshened and blows drops of water in through the window and the land on my face cooling my skin. I close my eyes and when I open them again, Raymond is there looking up at me. I cannot pull my gaze away from him and for a moment or two we simply stare at each other, then with a nod he reins his horse around and rides away. Suddenly I remember how it felt to have him stand close to me, to have his lips on mine, the ghost of his breath on my skin and I shiver. 

_**No, I reprimanded myself No he feels nothing for you, just remember that.** _

“Isabé stop daydreaming there is much to be done.” I spin around as the door opens and Aunt Blanche sails into the room clapping her hands at me.  
“Aunt I have little to pack  and I have resigned myself to being the most unfashionably dressed women ever to grace the Chateau, though I doubt Sieur Raymond will notice, much less care.”

“Oh he will notice, Isabé make no mistake and you will not pass through that door dressed like some farm girl in hand me downs, you will be wearing a gown finer than anything the other ladies may possess.  
I hear huffing, several loud thumps, a few sharp words and an occasional oath from outside the room then Jehanne enters.  
“Everything is here Madame.” And she stands aside allowing Julot and Géraud to haul not one but four very large chests into the room, they pause to take breath then leave still mumbling dissent.

“For you Isabé. Our clever Jehanne has been working hard with Mathilde and some of the needlewomen from the Chateau, these are your gowns my dear.  Raymond gave precise instructions that you were to have only the best and that no expense should be spared they are part of your wedding gift”  
I am speechless as I open the chests one by one. The first contains nothing but shoes, boots and belts, the second shifts, hose, head coverings and garters. In the last two, the largest of the four are the gowns and mantles, I have never seen anything so splendid. I have always tried to dress well as far as it goes, but these gowns are so fine, so beautiful they would surely be fit for a queen.  
“Close your mouth dear” Aunt Blanche laughs at me. “You must choose one to wear tomorrow it would please Raymond and he would know you appreciate his gift. 

I pull Jehanne into a hug, “Thank you, my dear wonderful friend, thank you”  
“How could I not Isabé, when Sieur Raymond approached me of course I said yes and have been happy to do it, think of it as my wedding gift to you, thank goodness I don’t have to keep the secret any longer for I should burst”  
But my at the back of my mind is the feeling that Raymond de Merville has bought me for the cost of a few yards of expensive cloth.

“Can this wedding not be stopped?”

“Don’t be a fool girl it cannot, you can see by his gift that this has been in his mind for months and now he has decided that you will make him a good wife.”  
I snort a laugh, “Then he must lacking in wits if he thinks that”

“Isabé, there are things you should know about the Bouvier’s and the de Mervilles” Aunt Blanche takes my hand and we sit on the edge of the bed.  
Blanche flicks a quick glance at Jehanne, who catches the meaning and immediately slips quietly from the room.

Raymond and your Uncle Henri are better friends than you imagine, they have known each other since childhood. Under the old King the boys spent time in England with the Baron, then for almost three years they fought together against Saladin at Acre and Jaffa even Jerusalem. They were young men, great friends, your Uncle was as handsome and strong as ever Raymond was but more than that, Raymond owes his life to him.”

“To Uncle Henri?”

“Oh yes, had it not been for Henri, Raymond de Merville would not be walking this earth”

“Better for some of us if he did not” I spat out 

The force of her slap makes my ears ring and sends me sprawling backwards on to the bed. My poor face may not survive the day if I do not keep my tongue in check.

“Grow up Isabé, a Holy war such as they fought, changes men in ways you could never understand, it breaks them, crushes them and remakes them into creatures we hardly recognise.”

Her lips tremble but she continues.  
“It broke your Uncle and Raymond knew it, he knew that Henri would never fight again, that he woke screaming in the night and sometimes spent his days locked away and weeping for the horror of it all. In gratitude for his life, Raymond petitioned his father to let Henri retire and also to gift him this Manor and its estate. The Baron for once showed some compassion and was happy to do so, because but for Henri, Raymond would have been left to die and rot on the battlefield of some heathen land. That was almost eighteen years ago and thanks to Raymond we want for nothing, your Uncle has regained some of his self-respect and Raymond neither spares nor begrudges anything for his friend, and the Manor will pass to Guillaume when he is of age.”

That made me smile, I thought it unlikely that Guillaume would ever return here and certainly not with a wife.

This was a side to Raymond I had never thought could exist and yet it was not hard to imagine that his loyalty to his friends could run so deep and strong. 

“And how did the horrors of war remake Raymond Aunt?”

Aunt Blanche twists her fingers together and she looks as if she is about to cry, certainly there is a catch in her voice when she speaks.  
“Isabé you must think on this, Raymond was never such a hard man as he is now.  But when his beloved mother died, it wounded him so deeply all the joy seemed to flow out of him, he grew worse when the love of his life walked away from him the Bitch”  
“Aunt Blanche” I am astonished for though my own language could be unladylike, I had never heard her say such thing before.

“Yes and she had the gall to marry a man he had considered a friend.  Now he was broken and wild, all the women he loved had left him, the things he saw as a soldier preyed on his mind, kindness and compassion was gone leaving a bitter and sometimes cruel man”  
Blanche clears her throat again, and I place my hand over both of hers to still her fingers.  
“In spite of how he is, you have a great regard for Raymond Aunt Blanche don’t you, you see good in him”  
“Because I know what he once was”  
“And so you think he can become that again, but he won’t” My words spit out harsher than I’d meant them to and she bristles, her voice is strident as her usually calm blue eyes flash fire at me.

“I’m not a fool Isabé, so don’t ever take me for one but I knew Raymond before he turned into the brutish man he is now. It seems he feeds off his own misery and grows strong on it. But yes I feel there still is some good in him.”  
I don’t answer, because I would tell her what I think and it would hurt her. I could almost feel some pity for the man, almost, but I wondered if taking me as his wife simply another act of gratitude and charity towards his old friend Henri.  
“So he devotes himself to war and the service of the King, does the King think highly of him?” 

“I believe so, he is often in Paris and it is rumoured that the King engages him for particular work”

“Envoy, spy, assassin, Sieur Raymond would be well suited to any or all of those” I laugh  
This time Aunt Blanche does not answer me, but I read the expression on her face and it says that I am right.  
As I begin to fold and pack the few clothes I already own, Blanche frowns at me  
“You will have no need of those” She pulls them out of the chest, I take them from her and place them there again. 

“Nevertheless Aunt, I shall take them.”

“As you wish”, she sighs and having long since resigned herself to what she calls my singular ways, she leaves me. I choose the gown that I will wear tomorrow, I don’t know why but it is strangely important to me that it meets with Raymond’s approval. The colour will suit my complexion and my pale hair will shine against the murrey coloured wool. The next few days will be the last when I shall be able to wear my hair loose in public.

It is unusually late when I wake, and Jehanne is already up and about, laying out my clothes and making sure the water in the tub is not too hot.  
“Good morning Isabé, I know you slept well you barely stirred, except for……..”

“Except for what?” I hitch myself up in bed and see that Jehanne is fighting a grin.

“Tell me you miserable baggage, except for what?” 

“Calling me names won’t help Isabé and for that I shan’t tell you”

I lean out of bed, snatch up a shoe and fling it at her, though I have no intention of hitting my mark.  
“Tell me” I yell at her.

She rolls her eyes flutters her lashes and clasping her hands against her breast moans “Raaaaaymond aaaaaah Raaaaymond”

I feel my face flushing “I did not you liar” and I bite at my lower lip

“Oh but you did, that and more”

“Oh for God’s sake don’t tell me I don’t want to know and I still think you’re making it up” But her look told me she wasn’t.

“Come on Isabé “she tries to haul me out of my bed. “It’s time for you to bathe and get ready” 

In a few hours all that is familiar will be left behind and I can’t bear the thought of it. A wave of panic suddenly sweeps through me and I begin to shake.  
Jehanne sits beside me on the bed and hugs me.

“This is not like you, you are stronger than this, now into the tub and I will wash your hair for you.”  
“When I am done with you Sieur Raymond will be dazzled.”  
I manage a faint smile, my one consolation is that she will be with me at the Chateau and I am grateful for that.

My dress is truly beautiful, it fits like a glove, Jehanne has worked her magic and tells me it is the latest style. My skin is soft and has the faint scent of roses, my hair shines like silver against the rich berry coloured wooI. The shoes I am wearing are the same colour as my gown and made of the softest leather. Around my waist I have fastened a narrow leather girdle with a gold buckle and as is the fashion the over long, gold tipped strap hangs down below my knees.

“Are you packed and ready to leave Jehanne?”

“Yes everything is ready and waiting down in the hall, but I will leave you now for a little while”  
Bless Jehanne, she understands that I need time to say good bye to my past life. I know that Aunt Blanche wants me to be down in the hall when Raymond arrives but he can wait.  I stand by my window, the sky is a bright, rain-washed blue, it’s a beautiful fresh day after the storm and this is the last time I will look at this view and I will never again sleep in this narrow bed.  
The riders come into view as they turn the bend in the road, there are more than I expected. Raymond is at the head, to the right of him rides his Captain and Guillaume is to his left leading a black mare. Behind them the escort, I count 20 men all dressed in the de Merville colours with the coat of arms on their cloaks and pennants, lastly a covered cart rumbles behind them.  
I hardly hear the sound of knocking on my door and Jehanne pokes her head around. “Isabé, your Aunt insists that you are in the Hall to greet Sieur Raymond”  
“Come in Jehanne, Raymond has only just arrived, there is time.” So we stand, arms around each other’s waists and watch from the window as Raymond dismounts and strides inside.  
“Isabé, we must go down”  
“A few moments more”  
“No” Jehanne tugs at my arm and hauls me towards the door. A deep breath, one last look around the small whitewashed room and we make our way down the stairs.  
I pause at the door, take another breath, fix a little smile on my face and walk into the main hall. All the house servants are gathered there to say goodbye there are whispers and admiring glances as I walk past.

“Isabé, at last” Aunt Blanche chides me gently. Raymond breaks from his conversation with my Uncle and turns to face me, he looks as grim as ever but dear God if he smiles at me I’m sure my very bones will melt. As I draw closer I drop a small curtsey and I am taken by surprise when Raymond holds out his hand to me and draws me up towards him.

“Thank you Sieur Raymond for your most generous gift I..”

I am cut short “Is that one of the gowns? If so, then it suits you well Isabé, very well indeed” He smiles, catches my chin between his fingers and thumb and stoops to brush the softest kiss to my lips. “As my wife it is only fitting that you should have the very best” 

My body does not quite listen to my head and when I look up at him my breath hitches. His smile widens but it does not reach his eyes they remain cold and guarded.

Wine is handed around and we stand side by side the mismatched pair that we are, the members of the household drink to our health and happiness. Raymond turns to my Aunt and Uncle, “Henri, Blanche it is time to take our leave my Father is waiting to welcome Isabé so we must say our goodbyes.”  
Every member of the house escorts us outside and as I kiss my Aunt and Uncle Adieu, Guillaume rides forward leading the pretty black mare. She prances about, sleek, fine and on her mettle, her tack is of black leather with silver decorations on the bridle and the saddle sits on a cloth of black and silver.  
“For you Isabé, I think you will be well matched for she has plenty of spirit she goes by the name of Estelle for the star on her forehead ”

“Raymond, she is beautiful” I stroke my fingers along the black silk of her neck. When I turn to look at him there is a slight smile playing on his lips and a warmth in his eyes. He helps me up into the saddle and Jehanne arranges my gown. As I mouth “Thank you” to him his smile widens briefly and he lets his hand rest on my thigh, it is for no more than a moment but the feel of it lingers long after he has mounted up onto his own great Dark grey horse. 

All the chests are secured on the cart, Jehanne is hoisted up to sit behind Raymond’s Captain and I have the oddest feeling they are not strangers. The journey to the Chateau is no more than half an hour and Raymond does not say one word, though our silence is not strained and once or twice I catch him glancing at me.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Secrets, confrontations and the hint of a conflagration.

Raymond leads me inside the Chateau, every eye is on me, burning into me, I am suddenly wary and he senses it.

“Be brave Isabé”, he whispers “Now is not the time to show any fear” and before I can answer the Baron is standing before us.

He is not as tall as Raymond, but he is broad and solid like a white haired bear and his eyes are the same piercing blue as his son’s. Age is catching up with him though and he walks with a cane now, but if his body is beginning to fail, I would gamble every one of my new gowns, that his mind is as sharp as ever.

“My dear, welcome, welcome” His voice is strong and a little guttural. Holding out both his hands he takes mine and leans in to kiss me on each cheek, that done I curtsey to him.

“Baron, thank you for receiving you into your home”

 “A pleasure Isabé, it has long been my dearest wish that this Son of mine takes himself a wife and sires children to carry on the de Merville name” All I can do is smile slightly, for I am perfectly aware that my being able to provide an heir is the main reason that the Baron would ever countenance someone of my status marrying Raymond.

“Now tell me” There is something disagreeable about his smile.” How is your dear Mother?” The Baron’s voice is loud enough to carry around the Hall

A growl rumbles deep in Raymond’s chest and he snarls.

“Leave it be Father, it is for Blanche to tell, not you”

At first I don’t understand the question and confused all I can say is. “My mother is dead, my Lord Baron she died when I was no more than a babe”

“I am afraid that is not so Isabé, for you took your leave.....”

Raymond cuts his father short “You are a meddling old man, I said leave it be”

The old Bastard has a feral smile on his face, he is baiting me, watching me, waiting to see what I will do.

My mind whirls and my jaw works but nothing comes out of my mouth and suddenly the enormity of what he has said slams into my mind. I falter a little and my legs wobble beneath me. In a flash Raymond settles his right hand against the small of my back and I’m strangely glad to feel the warmth and firmness of his touch.

The Baron will not give in.

“I am surprised Blanch has not told you herself Isabé, but you women will always have your little secrets, hein?”

Raymond hisses “Enough, you have no right” then softly he whispers to me “Isabé you do not have to listen to this now, we will talk quietly later”

I am not so quietly spoken “This is my fight Raymond, not yours”

“As you will Isabé”

I take in a deep shuddering breath letting it out slowly and when I answer I am calmer.

“I grasp your meaning my Lord Baron but we women keep secrets to protect ourselves, sometimes it is all we have but this is the business of no one but me, your Son and of course Blanche, so I hope there will be no more talk of it here.”

Raymond slides his arm further around me, rests his hand on my waist and pulls me close into his side, I feel his lips, warm as he presses them against my temple. Does he mean it or is it just for show?  At this moment I really don’t care, because just the feel of him so close gives me courage and I place my hand over his. If he has held something back from me it can be dealt with later.

Every person in the Great Hall is watching our little performance and those nearest to us are straining to hear.

Another deep breath to still my heart. Glancing sidewise at Raymond, I see his jaw tense and on some strange impulse I turn to him, stretch up on tiptoes and press a gentle kiss against it, feeling the slight scratch of his trimmed beard on my lips. As I step from him he does not release me immediately but lets his hand slide away from my waist his fingers trailing across my lower back and the sensation thrills through my body. I move forward with my eyes fixed firmly on the Baron. Uncle Henri always told me that an attack can be a good defence and even though my throat is a little dry, my voice is level and sweet sounding. It catches him off guard as I change tack.

“Baron if I understand correctly, since you have no wife or other female relatives, as your Daughter-in-Law the position of Chatelaine will be mine by right.

Baron de Merville looks me up and down with an unfathomable gaze.

“That is so Mam’selle”

“Then perhaps you would permit me, to take charge of the keys and examine the household accounts as soon as possible, in that way I might hope to bring some semblance of order to this pigsty before my wedding. At least I should be able to ensure that it no longer stinks as if the hounds have regularly been pissing in every corner.

This was primarily a household of men the household officials and fighting men, hardened soldiers it was easy to see that women were floundering under this masculine mess. I was determined it would change.

The Baron’s eyes pop wide they are hard, cold and glittering, then suddenly he erupts in a loud booming laugh and bellows out to the assembled household.

“My friends we had best beware, for it seems my Son has brought a lioness into this mangy wolf pack and I fear that if we do not take care she will tear us to shreds”

I smile sweetly at him. “Baron, I shall be no more trouble to you than a house cat hunting mice”

Raymond clears his throat, coughs and chokes back a laugh, when I look up at him he is biting at the inside of his mouth. Is that admiration and respect I see in his eyes? It may well be, but the look I give him back is not so warm, it says.

**_“Cat or Lioness I have sharp claws and teeth”_ **

Sniggers ripple all around, accompanied by some less favourable comments regarding my manners and and bold unladylike behaviour. I hear upstart, guttersnipe, and peasant I don’t care. This hall will be ready and fit for my wedding if I have to break heads in the doing of it.

“Isabé,” The Baron takes my hand in his, raises our arms slightly and in a regal fashion leads me around the hall introducing me to the more important members of the household and the officials. Their curious looks, indifferent conversation and downright hostility slide over me. I forget most of their names and faces almost immediately, I shall make my own allies here and in my own time.

Only one person interests me. She is wearing a dark green gown and hangs back behind a small knot of women but she is difficult to ignore. Tall, with creamy skin and dark eyes, the hair that escapes from under the veil is almost black, she seems modest and quiet but there is something about her I cannot fathom and I catch her looking past my shoulder with a slight smile on her full lips. Without turning I know that her soft, loving look is directed at Raymond.

She senses I am studying her and turns to face me, her smile, if anything is a little broader and she holds my stare but she is no match and her eyes slide away first. I have no idea who she is, but I shall make it my business to find out.

“Forgive me my dear” the sound of the Baron’s voice draws my attention away from her. “The business of the day calls, I shall leave you to the care of Raymond” his fingers are warm, he draws the back of my hand towards him and barely brushes his lips against the skin.

“Until this evening Isabé” His cloak swirls about him as he leaves surrounded by his advisors. 

The tall woman with the dark hair is still flicking quick, subtle glances towards Raymond, I turn to him so quickly that he does not have chance to turn his own eyes away from her and a slight flush touches his cheeks.

**_“So that is the way the land lies”_ **

In silence, we make our way up the stone stairs passing two private rooms, at the third we stop.

“These are my quarters Isabé after the wedding they will be ours.”

“May I look inside Raymond?”

“No, you may not set foot in there until we are married, my Wife must be above all suspicion, we will meet only in public or when you have Jehanne with you as chaperone” His voice is brusque, his words final, this was the familiar Raymond. As is the norm, one law for men and one for women and my thoughts turn back to the dark eyed woman He leads me away turns right at the end of the corridor and halts at the second door.

“This is your Chamber Isabé, at least for now. Jehanne hears us, opens the door and Raymond stands aside to let me pass.

The sunlight slants through three tall narrow windows on the decorated wall opposite me and it paints the plain white plastered walls a pale yellow. The large bed is high, surrounded by red hangings and draped with a coverlet of the same colour. Several large soft looking pillows rest against the head board. A large table with four substantial chairs, two footstools and a smaller table. My Chests of clothes have been arranged under the windows and Jehanne has made sure that there are jugs of water and a basin so I can wash.

“When you are ready Isabé send someone to find me and we shall start your tour, you must learn quickly to find your way around”

“Raymond, why did you not tell me about Blanche?”

His severe look softens a little.

“Believe me Isabé, I knew nothing of it until two days ago and it is not my tale to tell, Blanche must speak with you herself, if she chooses.” His fingers are gentle as they curl around my own, and there is something akin to pity in his expression. I do not want pity and pull my hand away, the hardness settles back onto his features once more and without another word he leaves slamming the door behind him.

Jehanne pours me wine.  It’s good rich wine I savour it and hold it in my mouth then I let it slide down my throat. Before I can do the same again I hear the lightest of tapping at the door. Jehanne frowns, we are not expecting anyone, and she looks put out at having her chance to talk to me snatched away.

Hardly has she opened the door when without invitation someone bustles in.

“Forgive for the intrusion me Mam’selle Isabé, the Baron has instructed me to hand these to you, she curtseys, holds out a large bunch of keys and then drops them into my outstretched hand.

Our visitor is a short woman, shorter even than me she is comfortably rounded with a matronly bosom and well-padded hips. Dressed in a grey woollen dress, hair hidden under a veil and wimple her look is that of a plain little garden bird. Her voice is soft but business like, she is no peasant woman and she studies me with dark brown eyes that glitter and looks as if she is about to cry.

“What is your name Madame?”

“Madame Bérenger, Ghislane Bérenger I am the Housekeeper, though at the request of the Baron and in the absence of a female member of the family, I hold the position of Chatelaine”

“Thank you Madame, will you take some wine with me?”

“Let me be plain with you Mam’selle, I have heard that you are unhappy with the state of the Chateau, all I can say is I have done my best” In spite of her indignant tone, there is a noticeable quiver to her lower lip and her eyes brim.

I smile at her.

“Madame, that you have managed to accomplish anything in this place, is to your credit. It cannot have been easy for you.” I hand her a cup of wine and she takes it. “Please, sit and talk with me a while”

As she settles in the chair opposite me, I begin my campaign.

“I meant no slight to you and in truth the hall is in a far better state than I could have hoped for. You must forgive my choice of words to the Baron, but I was determined to pay him back for the things he said to me.”

I watch closely, she sips at her wine then sucks her bottom lip between her teeth.

“Will you help me Ghislane?” No answer, but she blows out her cheeks considering what I have asked. I lean towards her and plough on “How would it suit you if we tour the Chateau every day, you can introduce me to those people I really need to know and we can go through the accounts together?

“As you wish Mam’selle” there is still some resistance there. 

I need to try another approach and I take hold of both her hands. “Madame Bérenger, I wish you to keep the keys, you will instruct me in the running of this household and when you feel I am ready and only then, you will hand the keys to me. Do we have a bargain?”

A slow smile settles on her mouth and then broadens, she nods.

“And I would value your help and experience in readying the Chateau for the wedding”

 “Of course Isabé”

“So tomorrow then?”

“Tomorrow, after you break your fast, agreed?”

“Agreed, how would it be if you rallied the housemaids and we begin by organising the cleaning of the hall and whilst that is in progress we could begin our assault on the kitchens?  We need to organise the cooks, pantler, butler and larderer at the very least.”

Ghislane eyes me her look is one of apprehension.

“Is something wrong?”

“The Seneschal won’t like it Isabé, he organises everything of note at the Chateau even the staff”

“Then he had better learn to like it and quickly”

Ghislane snorts, laughs and eyes me with a huge smile on her face.

“I feel sorry for Fournier, very sorry indeed”

“There will be change Ghislane, perhaps not great change but nonetheless it will happen”

“Madame de Merville would have liked you Isabé, she would have liked you very much indeed”

“Thank you, there is one other thing I should like to know, I noticed a woman earlier. Tall, dark hair, dark eyes she is wearing a green gown”

With her eyes cast down to the floor and in a hesitant voice Ghislane answers. “That is Eleanor Forrestier, she is”, another hesitation, “She is Sieur Raymonds mistress and has been for some time”

I am not a fool and would have been more surprised had there been no one. All I can do is nod.

“Thank you for your honesty Ghislane, so it seems there is something else which will require a remedy”

“Noblemen often take a mistress my dear it is quite usual, many wives are resigned to it, some are even glad of it as it keeps their husbands from bothering them too much.

“Not me Ghislane and not my Husband”

She rolls her eyes at me as if to say “I wish you luck” then downs the rest of her wine. “Until tomorrow morning Isabé, I shall gather the housemaids and meet you in hall.”

Ghislane takes up the keys and bids me adieu.

I grin across at Jehanne.

“My first ally, from the household, a small beginning but a beginning nonetheless”

I wash my hands and face, smooth my hair and make my way into the hall. Guillaume is lounging around with some of the other squires.

“I need to speak with Sieur Raymond Guillaume, do you know where I can find him? I hear sniggers and catch sidewise glances.

“He’s in his chamber Isabé but cannot be disturbed”

“Really, would you care to try and stop me _Brother?_ ” His eyes pop wide, he makes as if to speak but only a croak leaves his lips “Yes thanks to My Lord Baron I know you are my half-brother”

I whirl away from him but he follows on with Jehanne in tow as I make my way to Raymond’s chamber.

There is no ceremony, I push open the door and it makes hardly a sound on the well-oiled hinges, even if it had I doubt they would have noticed.

Within two hours or so of Raymond showing me to my chamber he has bedded his mistress. I wonder was she already waiting for him, was that the reason he would not allow me into his rooms?

Clothes are strewn across the floor, the bed the covers have been kicked this way and that. Two bodies are tangled together, Raymond is laying on his back propped up against the pillows, he has one arm around Eleanor his fingers idly stroking back and forth over her shoulder. Eleanor has one leg hooked over Raymond’s thighs she gently strokes the fingers of her left hand down his chest, then slides it lower and lower down but he catches her wrist and stops any further progress. Curled tightly against his side she moulds her body against his, her hair wild and dark spreads across the pillow and curls over him. He has his forehead pressed against hers and the both of them are heaving from exertion trying to catch their breath.

Jehanne gasps as I step forward.

“Forgive me Raymond, I had not thought to find you so occupied”

For a moment the world is still.

“Get out Isabé damn you woman, get out!” He roars at me, his face flushed.

My legs tremble and I have to stand still for a moment, waiting until I am sure I can cross the room without faltering. I move to the table, pour myself half a goblet of wine and take a deep swallow then lower myself into a chair and sit tapping my foot on the floorboards, whilst I twirl the stem of the goblet between my fingers.

Raymond clambers from the bed and makes no attempt to search for his shirt. Naked he leans against the wall, arms across his chest, eyes locked onto mine, or they would be if mine were not drawn elsewhere.

I pull my gaze away from his groin and bite the inside of my mouth, he is how shall I say, at half-mast.

“Raymond if you are trying to impress me,” I gesture towards him and take another swallow of wine to steady myself “This display of your manhood would see you laughed out of every whore’s chamber between here and Evreux.”

Not true of course, oh most certainly not true.

He glowers at me,  Eleanor has covered herself but makes no move to dress.

I try to make light of it but my eyes fly back to him and I am shocked. I know he is a fighting man but I see marks, calluses and scars all over his torso, I shudder at the sight. Some are still livid, red and fresh, others are fading to purple and the oldest are no more than pale marks showing silver in the sunlight.

Raymond is a war battered soldier of forty-six Summers, yet he wears his years lightly in spite of the abuse his body has taken.

Mam’selle Forrestier, I have matters to discuss with Sieur Raymond. You will oblige me by dressing and leaving.”

She slides from the bed, slow and languorous, black hair against her creamy skin, eyes heavy lidded with lust and her lips bitten into a swollen pout. Eleanor moves with a feline grace, purely for Raymond’s benefit and as she passes him trails her fingers across his chest. She has no shame, as she pads around not only in front of Raymond and me but Jehanne and Guillaume who all this time have been standing behind me.

My anger is rising and I am fighting to stay in control of myself.

“Jehanne, fold the coverlets from the bed and set them aside then strip off the sheets, pillows and their covers you can place them by the door” she stares at me.

“Now Jehanne” I snap at her

Turning to Guillaume, I see his eyes are wide, there is a deep flush to his cheek but he is not casting sly glances at Eleanor, oh no, they are meant only for Raymond and I smile to myself.

I had always known that there would be no wife for Guillaume except as a pretence, I had never considered that Raymond would be the object of his affection.

“Guillaume” He snaps his head back to me “Go and drag some of your friends from idling in the hall and bring them back here”

He does not answer and hares out of the room, I know he can’t wait to see what I’m up to.

I take another sip of wine to bolster my courage.

Raymond is still naked, he watches Isabé closely, knows she is nervous, wary and showing a bravery she does not truly feel.

 ** _So Isabé, what are you up to, what is whirring in that head of yours?_**

For now he will let her have her way, he will indulge her and allow her some freedom but once they are married, then she will soon come to learn that he is master and it is for her to obey. Her voice works into his mind.

“I am not a fool Raymond, I know that men of your status often have a mistress, it is the norm, but you will never bring another into this room. Take a woman if you must but you will fuck her elsewhere, not here, not in our bed, _my_ bed. As a good and dutiful wife I will try and make sure you have no spare energy to waste on whores, I hope I make myself clear Sieur Raymond.

His brows fly up towards his hairline, I smile sweetly at him and turn my attention to Eleanor.

 “You! get dressed, I will not ask again, I shall simply throw your clothes over the balustrade and you will be forced to walk naked into the hall to claim them.”

In the ensuing silence, I see Raymond move, snatch up his own shirt and pull it on. He has regained most of his composure and some of his dignity. 

I get up and make as if to snatch Eleanor’s clothes from the floor, she dashes forward grabs them up and begins to dress.

That Bastard is enjoying every moment of this, he knows I can barely keep my eyes off him and when he raises one eyebrow and smirks at me I feel the flush creeping up into my face and down to my chest.

Raymond can’t decide whether he is amused or exasperated by Isabé’s behaviour, and as for her cursing it can only have been learned either from Henri or Guillaume. He wonders how it will be with her, how it will feel to have her in his bed to feel her hands on him, her hair against his skin, her mouth on his, to feel himself inside her and he groans quietly.

Dressed, Eleanor waits for Raymond to dismiss her.

“Don’t look to Sieur Raymond”

She pouts at me as I continue and I catch her off guard.

“Can you sew?

 “Of course I can sew” she spits her answer as if I have asked the most stupid question she has ever heard.

“Can you sew well?”

“I believe so”

“Then you had better be telling the truth, for Jehanne will test you tomorrow and she is one of the finest needlewomen in Rouen.  I have need of another a woman, the position is yours if you want it.

The glove is cast down and I wait. Her expression gives nothing away then to my surprise, Eleanor Forrestier nods her head and accepts.

I stifle a laugh as I see Raymond’s jaw fall open a little.

“Very well Eleanor you may go now, I shall send for you later and we will discuss your duties”

“As you wish Mam’selle” and with the briefest glance at her lover she leaves. Oh yes, Eleanor Forrestier is clever enough to know when to yield.

Through all of this Jehanne has remained by the door, quiet, calm and taking it all in. She is so quiet that I am sure Raymond has forgotten she is there.

“Tell me Isabé, what do you think you will achieve by that, by taking Eleanor into your service?”

I laugh “In spite of your forty-six years and doubtless several mistresses Raymond, you appear to know very little about women”

“It seems I know little of you, that’s for certain” he flings at me

“All you need to know, is that I keep my friends close and my enemies closer and before you ask I am undecided about you Raymond de Merville. But know this, Eleanor Forrestier will never warm your bed again!”

He strides towards me a sullen expression plastered across face, it makes him look mean then he checks himself as he hears the clatter at the door and Guillaume bursts back in with five other squires.

“As requested _Sister_ we are at your service” he grins and shoots a quick glance at Raymond

“Take the mattress from the bed Guillaume,” I glare at Raymond  “I will not lie on a bed where you have fucked your whores Sieur”

Raymond is impassive, Jehanne coughs, the other squires stare at me and Guillaume openly sniggers as he asks.

“Are you sure Isabé?”

“Remove it now” I am almost shouting at them.

Huffing and heaving, they haul the mattress from the bed

“Take it down to the courtyard, Jehanne go with them, take the sheets and the pillows, then go with Guillaume for some oil and some hot coals or anything to set it alight”

I smile at their confusion.

“We are about to have to have a bonfire, I will join you presently.”


	5. Chapter 5

Jehanne leaves the room and closes the door quietly behind her.

“Do I understand that you are about to have my mattress burned in front of the household?”

I know that tone, it is the same one that Henri Bouvier uses when he is truly angry, a cool, clipped voice which usually sent Guillaume and me running as fast as possible in the opposite direction. But not this time.

I cross the room towards Raymond, the Devil is in me and I reach up on tiptoe to cup my hands around his handsome, angry face, for a moment I stare into his eyes then press my mouth to his. Bold now I touch the firm, moist tip of my tongue to his warm lips teasing him.

**_Dieu I must be insane, why am I doing this_ ** _?_

Suddenly his arms close around me pulling me into him and I mould my body against his sliding my arms around his neck, it is as if I have no will.

As he deepens the kiss Raymond’s mind whirls. He has always been determined to love Isabé, but not to fall in love with her. Over the last few months he has watched her, taken pains to find out about her but now, after only two days of being with her, only two days, it feels as if the ground is already beginning to crumble beneath his feet. In all his years, Raymond has never come across someone like her.

 ** _Damn you Isabé, how you have done this I don’t know, but that does not excuse you behaving like some ill-bred village girl, you will need to curb your tongue and manage your temper._**  

Deep down he knows she is right for him, knows she will make a good wife, God willing a mother and as the Chatelaine, she will be formidable, of that he is certain.

I really do not know how I truly feel about this man, but I know he creates sensations in me that I have never felt before. There is a heat in my veins, it pulses and settles deep inside me throbbing at that one point between my legs and I clench them together.  Sliding my mouth from his I latch my teeth to his lower lip, bite down and then rake them over it.

“Witch, you need to be taught some manners, not least because you are set on burning my bed” he growls at me. I wriggle from his embrace and dance away

“Remember Raymond, you cannot always play by your rules” 

As I reach the door I call over my shoulder to him.

“I repeat, if you take a woman, make sure you fuck her elsewhere and not in our bed, Oh and it would be best if you tell me sooner rather than later whether you have any de Merville bastards running around.” His eyes fly wide as I leaves.

The moment she is gone Raymond hauls on his clothes and boots, makes his way down to the courtyard and pushes his way through the growing assembly to stand feet slightly apart, arms folded across his chest smirking at Isabé across the mattress and mound of bedding.

Seemingly oblivious to the nudging, eye rolling and giggling, he watches to see if she will make good her threat.

The mattress and bedding have been set down in the centre of the courtyard, near to the well. The hot spell means everything is tinder dry even after yesterday’s storm and if it burns too fiercely or the wind rises and blows sparks around its best we can douse the flames quickly.

“What is the meaning of this?” The Baron, appears from a doorway at the base of the South West tower. Slightly behind his right shoulder stands a man probably not much older than Raymond, but his hair is thick, grizzled and sits in tight dark grey curls, his grey eyes are locked on me and his expression gives nothing away. I wonder if he is as pompous as he looks.

I notice now, just how heavily the Baron leans on his cane and he drags his right leg a little.

“Isabé are you determined to lay the Chateau to waste and then rebuild it?”

“Monseigneur Baron my intent is only to repair and improve certain things.”

He pokes at the mattress with his cane.

“Your’s Isabé?”

“No it is Raymond’s, I have no wish to spend my nights in a bed where he has fucked his Mistress”

There are intakes of breath, as I scandalise the matrons of the household with my turn of phrase.

I do not look at Raymond but watch the Baron closely, I see him narrow his eyes and clench his jaw as he takes two more steps towards me.

“Ahh Isabé, have a care that you not push my son, or indeed me too far, we are neither of us known for our even temper and our patience has its limits. He lays his hand against my face and pats my cheek.

“Monseigneur Baron, he should regard himself fortunate I did not demand that the bed be dismantled and added to the pyre along with every moveable object he posesses.

Now he laughs and looks at the man behind him.

“Fournier we had best call more craftsmen to hand for fear Mam’selle breaks the chateau to pieces.” “Isabé let me introduce you to Fournier, my Seneschal.”

“Monsieur” I nod at him. his lips twitch and as we eye one another he nods at me. I feel he may not be as difficult to get along with as Ghislane Berringer suggested this right hand man and self-appointed watchdog.

Guillaume arrives from the kitchen with a torch, Jehanne is following behind carrying a jug of oil, just enough to help encourage the bonfire to burn.

“Set the flame to it Guillaume”

Raymond has his jaw set firm, though I can’t read his expression for he wears his dispassionate “Soldier’s Face” When he speaks his voice is low and measured.

“Think carefully on this Guillaume, if you do this then be certain you will be out of here before the flames die. It will be the last thing you ever do in the Chateau”

I see the look of disbelief flash across the face of my newly found Brother, it is tinged with despair. I know for certain now that he would never bear the pain of being parted from his beloved Raymond, no matter – as far as I know- that the affection is not returned. I hurt for him as he struggles between heart, head and duty and I wonder does anyone else know of his love for Raymond, indeed is Raymond himself even aware? More questions to be answered.

I smile across at him. “I shall spare you the misery and disgrace of banishment, give the torch to me Guillaume” He does not and shakes his head casting a glance at Raymond, I lean across and take it from him. “You are absolved, the guilt is not yours now”

Raymond growls at me and there is warning in his tone.

“Isabé this has gone far enough, my patience and forbearance are wearing thin. I warn you Woman, defy me in this and you will most decidedly wish you had not.”

As I stretch my arm out towards the the mound of mattress and linen, I look him straight in the eyes they are like cold fire burning back at me. Those who gathered around us seem to hold their breath as one, as we play out the final act in our little drama.

I can’t help the slight smile that plays on my mouth, I jut my chin at him and fling the torch down into the middle of the pile. The linen catches quickly, the fire creates its own wind and the flames rise to lick at the mattress.

“Pour the oil over Jehanne,” and she steps forward.

“No!” Raymond bellows at her and she checks, looking first to him and then to me.

“Do it!!

“If you dare Jehanne it will be the worse for you”

I spin towards him spitting feathers in my fury but my voice is calm.

“Jehanne answers to me not you, I am not your wife _yet_!”

“In this Chateau you are under my jurisdiction, and you _will_ behave accordingly”

I snort a laugh at him and my look says “You’re a fool if you think that.”

I reach forward to Jehanne, snatch the jug from her and pour the oil over the bedding.

Raymond lunges forward and grabs my arm his fingers dig deep into the flesh above my elbow, with his other hand he wrests the jug away and flings it to the ground. Without care or ceremony he drags me away and I have to trot just to keep up with his long stride, otherwise he will simply drag me through the dust

“I warned you Isabé”

I have never heard so much anger in so few words, not even from Uncle Henri and he can be powerfully fierce. When I look up at Raymond I shudder, his face is pale with fury. As we reach the steps of the tower he sits and pulls me down, twisting me around with such speed and force it knocks the breath from my body as he slams me over his knees. I am still, but only for a moment and I start to wriggle and twist, kicking my feet and pummelling at the side of his thigh with my fists as I lay face down across his legs. I know what’s coming.

He is silent, immoveable as he yanks up my gown, mercifully leaving my shift alone but the thin fabric is no protection. The first strike is hard and stinging against my backside, it is followed by more as he brings his large, calloused hand down hard time and again. At first I gasp for breath and I feel tears forming, tears of sheer rage and anger squeezing out from my tightly closed eyes I am mortified. Then I manage to scream and yell at him to leave me be and when he does not I use oaths that no well-bred woman should know let alone use. He is an arsehole, a bastard, he should go fuck himself. I think I learned far more useful things from listening to Uncle Henri and Guillaume than from Blanche in her guise as my Aunt.

Our audience is mesmerised as Raymond delivers the final wallop. My backside stings and smarts, my pride is wounded even more. With a grunt Raymond gets to his feet, I slide from his lap and land in the dust, immediately I try to scramble away but my husband-to-be hauls me up and swings me over his shoulder as if I am no more than a sack of grain. We leave the sniggering crowd standing beside the ashes, breathing in the stink of charred linen, feathers and smouldering wool.

My veil and circlet slip from my hair and fall to the ground, I catch sight of Jehanne reaching to gather them up and call to her.

“Gather up some of the housemaids, every inch of Sieur Raymond’s chamber is to be cleaned from top to bottom, every inch mark you I want no trace left of anything that has gone before.”

I flail my legs hoping to catch him in the balls, but he tightens his hold so I resort to beating my fists against his backside as I try to squirm free.

“Be still or I will let you fall” his voice is still hard edged and full of anger but I continue to struggle against him, so he eases his grip just enough and with a shriek I slide farther down his back, before he tightens his grasp and stops my descent.

Baron de Merville turns to Fournier.

“A formidable opponent, and an excellent match for my son” He smiles broadly but Fournier says nothing and merely watches as Raymond disappears into the great hall, where I was sure he would let me go, but no, he continues up the stairs and on to my chambers, opens the door with his free hand and once inside kicks it shut. He does not release me until he stands beside my bed where he flings me down. I wince as my backside hits the mattress.

“Bastard” I yell at him

Raymond settles in the largest of the chairs and pours some wine for himself and for me, he gestures to the wine cup on the table

“Come and sit, I wish to speak with you”

I slide off the bed and with careful steps I walk, or rather shuffle towards him. As I reach the table he hands me the wine and nods to the chair.

“I prefer to stand”

He catches his bottom lip between his teeth and his eyes are no longer so cold. “As you wish”

“You have set this place in an uproar Isabé. In less than a day, you have been disrespectful to my father, although I must own it was not without cause and provocation. Add to that the fact that you have scandalised the household with your language and behaviour, disobeyed me and incited my Squire and your Tire Woman to rebel is a remarkable achievement in such a short time, wouldn’t you agree?” And quite what you hope to achieve with regard to Eleanor Forrestier is beyond me.

I don’t answer.

“You have nothing to say Isabé? I find that most surprising you are usually so fond of the sound of your own voice”

He takes another swallow of wine.

“Yes I have things to say, but they are nothing to do with today.”

My voice falters, he cocks his head and watches me closely.

“I do not want Blanche Bouvier at my wedding, as far as I am concerned she is not invited”

“Impossible, Henri and Blanche are some of my oldest friends and Blanche, as you now know, is your Mother, how can a bride not have her mother present”

“Blanche is nothing to me now, she could not even tell me herself after all the years of the lie, all the years of not wanting to own me she is not welcome”

“I had not thought you would be so callous and unforgiving Isabé, do you not think she had her reasons? Keeping to the lie prevented her being named a whore and you a bastard, you should be grateful for that at least. As you said yourself, women keep secrets to protect themselves”

“What else could I say in front of everyone?”

“She will be present along with Henri.”

“But..”

“I beg you don’t cross me again Isabé, I have had enough of it for one day.” He sighs wearily, a long blown out breath hissing between his lips and as if trying to ease the tension and erase the memories he rubs at his forehead with his free hand.

“What of my father, what do you know of him?”

Ha! That took him by surprise, he thought I had finished with the subject of Blanche.

“Nothing, I swear to you Isabé that until two days ago I knew nothing of all this, on my life”

The way he looks at me with a sad half smile and his surprisingly gentle tone of voice, I believe him and as far as I know he would gain nothing from lying.

“And your father, does he know?”

Raymond takes in another deep breath, lets it out slowly and shrugs.

“You will have to ask him for I have no idea.”

As I raise the cup to my lips again I try to ease the pain in my arse by rubbing it gently with the palm of my hand, I press too hard and hiss in my breath. Raymond is watching me over the rim of his cup, his eyes sparkle and I know he is smiling, at this moment I loathe him.

“What of Guillaume?”

I had thought the question might take Raymond by surprise, it does not.

Perhaps I have misread...but no there was no mistaking expressions I had seen on Guillaume’s face during the day.

“What of him? He is my squire”

There is no way other than to plough on headfirst.

“You do know that my brother,” I hesitate “That my brother loves you?”

There, it is said and Raymond is silent. He sets the cup down carefully and deliberately.

“Yes I do, he made that plain very early on, but we have an understanding”

“An understanding what kind of understanding?”

“My, you are a curious one Isabé, are you worried my affections lie elsewhere?”

I shrug my shoulders.

When Raymond speaks, his voice is low and sounds a little sad

“Isabé” he sighs “I can call to mind at least 6 other men who God made the same as Guillaume but he is my squire and that is where it ends, he is a good man, an honest man and a brave soldier I can ask no more. That he stays with me, is I think, more of a benefit to me than to him, for he knows I cannot and will not return that same love he directs at me. It is not my nature, but I would not deliberately cause him distress”

This is a Raymond I had not expected to find, a Raymond with some understanding, some compassion.

“Raymond what do you think God makes of Guillaume and the others?”

“Shall we leave God out of this Isabé? My opinion of that deity is such that I would likely be burned for heresy. I cannot believe that our Christian God would rejoice in some of the things I have seen done in his name on the field of battle. How can a loving God delight in the sight of such horrors, such atrocities how could he sanction hatred?”

I know now that in his own way, Raymond is as broken as Uncle Henri, he is a haunted man”  

“No Isabé I cannot think he would damn Guillaume for being as he is, for God created all men in his image we are told.”

Moments pass and neither of us speaks, then I set my wine cup on the table, step towards him and drop a kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you for being kind to Guillaume, you are not as awful a man as you would have people believe”

He laughs low and quite gentle.

“You change your thoughts more often a whore lifts her skirts, I think marriage to you will certainly be eventful Isabé”

He traces a finger over the back of my hand where the sunlight turns the skin to gold, I do not pull my hand away but smile at such gentle intimacy.

“Oh you may depend on that Sieur Raymond” and I smile as my eyes flash a warning to him.

“Blanche will be at church on Sunday, would that not be a good time to speak with her, to ease this pain in you and make your peace with her?”

I can’t answer him.

“I’ll leave you now, but I expect your answer this evening when we dine and now thanks to you, I had best find somewhere to bed down for the night”

He stands in the doorway and a wicked grin spreads across his face. “Perhaps Eleanor Forrestier would oblige me”

The mood changes.

“Bastard!”

My wine cup hits the back of the door as he pulls it shut and wine trickles down the wood to drip on the floor, I can hear his deep, rich laugh as he strides away.

Raymond is thoughtful and a little apprehensive.

**_Why by all that is Holy did I chose a young woman for a wife, why did I choose this woman in particular? A handsome widow would have been the sensible way. Someone who would know how to behave, someone with children of her own that I could adopt in case she could not conceive. Why did I choose Isabé?_ **

But he knew the answer before he had posed the questions, she had a quick mind, she was brave, she excited him and she made his heart beat a little faster and his blood sing a little louder.

 


	6. Chapter 6

The Second wine cup follows the first and after that the jug. Both are accompanied by an appropriate oath, as wine splatters over the door, walls and floor. But what is the point? It was not Raymond’s head that took the blows so there is no satisfaction in it and all I have done is to create a mess to be cleaned. In frustration I scream and stamp my foot on the floor like a petulant child. 

  
Raymond makes his way along the corridor, still chuckling to himself, but the sound dies on his lips as he rounds the corner. Chairs, a table, all of his chests, are dotted about, the stand for his mail leans precariously against the balustrade the weight of the mail coat almost tipping it over, one of his helms rolls back and forth on the floor another is wedged behind the door. A shield,a stool, leather pauldrons, have all been slung unceremoniously onto the small bed which had been dragged out from the side room and shoved up against the wall

**  
_“Merde! Not more interfering damned women!“_ **

 

He weaves his way along between his belongings and as he steps through the door, a balled up cloak sails through the air, hits him in the chest then slides down to land at his feet. He snatches it up and strides into his chamber where is confronted by three determined females who have undoubtedly helped orchestrate all the chaos and are now hell-bent scouring everything in sight.

 

“Fuck!” he hisses under his breath.

 

Two of the women are matronly, one is on her knees scrubbing the floor and the other has covered the head of her besom with a linen cloth and is reaching high to dust  down the walls. The third a young housemaid with her hair bound up tight and her skirt hem tucked up into her girdle is the culprit who threw the cloak, seeing Sieur Raymond heading towards her she squeaks in panic then stands eyes wide, both hands clamped over her mouth. He thrusts the garment at her and her lip trembles as she takes it.

 

There is a coverlet draped over his bed and smaller items are piled on it,  rolls of parchment, boots, swords boxes, and wine cups with a few items of clothing.

  
He bellows at full volume, “Jehaaaane, Jehaaaanne” for he knows she is at the bottom of this “Get your backside in here now” His voice echoes and bounces from the walls. 

 

Carrying a leather water pail in her right hand and a wash cloth in the other, Jehanne glides through from the smaller chamber with all the grace and serenity of a great lady. She sets down the pail, drapes the cloth over the edge then curtsies to Raymond. Jehannes  lowers her gaze and a small demure smile plays on her lips.

 

“There is no cause for you to shout Sieur Raymond, I can hear you perfectly well, do you require some assistance?”

Her voice is measured, but with a saucy tone to it and now  there is a slightly defiant glint in her eye, Raymond does not fail to notice both. 

 

**_ “Please God one woman of Isabé’s stamp is enough, I do not need another.” _ **

 

She doesn’t even  flinch when he steps closer and snarls at her.

  
“What in Hell  are you doing, I gave you no permission to ransack my chambers”

Before she can answer, his look slides past her shoulder, his attention is taken by another young girl coming through from the side room.

“You!”

He doesn’t shout but the sound of his voice is low and with a touch of menace it startles her and the platter she is carrying slips from her hands, thuds to the wooden floor and breaks clean in two.

 

“Jesus Christ and all his saints”, Raymond rakes his hands back through his hair. “I want these women out of here now!”

Impassive and most certainly unimpressed at his outburst, Jehanne draws in her breath and sighs.

 

“Sieur Raymond, were it up to me, we would leave this instant, however I have been instructed by Mam’selle Isabé to clear these rooms of,” she hesitates. “To clear these rooms of all taint”

 

Eye to eye they face each other and Raymond is sure he sees a ghost of a smirk on her face.

 

“Sieur, all will be set to rights before the evening meal”

 

“Save me from the tyranny of women,” and the man who has faced the hordes of the Crusades retires from the fight but as he turns he notices that there is a new mattress on his bed and he raises a questioning eyebrow at Jehanne, she smiles sweetly at him. 

 

“I have friends here Sieur Raymond, I know who best to speak to”

 

Shaking his head he storms from the room, leaving the women to do their worst. 

 

“Sieur Raymond.” Guillaume slithers to a halt in front of his Lord, “Sieur, an Envoy from the King has arrived, I have made him comfortable and sent for wine. He is in the meeting chamber of the North West tower, he asks to speak with you immediately.”

Raymond brushes past him 

“Guillaume I should have thought you would know by now that when an Envoy asks, he is certainly not asking, but commanding, he is the King’s proxy and he has the King’s authority” 

With Guillaume following close behind Raymond hare’s  down the stairs, strides down the side of the hall at speed and enters the chamber. 

  
One man watches him. Mathieu Descoteaux, Raymond’s Captain peels himself away from where he is leaning against the wall, steps out into the hall and saunters after his Lord. He has little doubt that he will soon be needed.

 

As Raymond strides into the room he breaks into a laugh.

 

“Well at least Phillipe sent someone with brains, it is good to see you my friend. They grasp each other, right hand to right forearm then slap each other on the back. Geoffroy Maçon, brother in arms, close friend, Envoy to King Phillipe II and a Master Spy. 

“Geoffroy, you look like shit!”

 

A big man, broad shouldered and solid, Geoffroy stands a couple of inches taller than Raymond. Sweaty and dust covered from his 2 day ride, his fair hair is damp and sticks to his forehead, green eyes under shaggy brows are dull,  red rimmed and sore looking. He has clearly ridden hard and fast to get here.

“So my friend, what brings you crawling out from the midden that is Paris?” 

Raymond drawls as looks his friend up and down.

 

“Rumour at court is that you are to be married but I had to hear the words from your own lips you miserable bastard, I couldn’t believe it, I mean who in God’s name would take you on, you battle scarred old warhorse?”

 

“Believe it, I am to be married next week on Midsummer’s day” 

 

“Well the King has at least agreed that you should marry Raymond but I wouldn’t wager a sous parisis, let alone a sous tournois that you’ll be married on that day. I know for certain that he has someone else in mind for you my friend.”

 

Raymond shrugs, it is a nonchalent gesture but his voice belies his apparent insoucience and he growls back his reply.

“Then that is his prerogative but he won’t make me change my mind, besides he’s dammed lucky I petitioned him before I offered for her hand.” 

 

“Sometimes Raymond, you sail a little too close to the wind where the King is concerned”

Raymond laughs, “Sometimes I sail a little too close to the wind **_for_** the King, but I have learned to live with it”

Geoffroy nods, he understands completely the kind of work Raymond is sometimes called on to undertake.

 

“I have a personal message for you”, he reaches into his leather scrip bag and hands Raymond a small scroll.

 

Crushing it in his hand, Raymond folds his arms across his chest and narrows his eyes.

“Why don’t you tell me what it says and don’t give me that blank look, I know you have read it.”

Raymond has noticed that the seal has been tampered with, sliced horizontally through the middle, then heated and re sealed. It is barely visible but he has seen it nonetheless.

 

Geoffroy laughs. “I must be losing my Touch”

 

“Oh I don’t think so my friend, you’re just testing me, if this were up to your usual standard I shouldn't have known”

 

“His Majesty writes as both your Sovereign and your friend to tell you that he has long felt you should take a wife and although he approves of your marrying, he is not quite so ready to endorse your choice of bride.”

 

Raymond’s only answer is a snort of disgust, he pours more wine for them both then flops into a chair stretching his long legs out in front of him. 

 

“And the rest?”

 

Geoffroy worries at his lower lip and draws in a deep breath.

 

“He suggests that you may wish to spend a day or two with him in Paris to discuss it”

 

“Suggests, when has Phillipe Augustus ever suggested anything?” Raymond takes a deep swallow of wine. “He may phrase it however he likes, it is still a command that  he wants me put aside the woman I have chosen?”

 

“I believe that may well be in his mind, he feels that this young woman may not be the appropriate choice”

 

But Raymond knows there is something else behind all this.

 

“I know you too well Maçon, so stop playing the slippery, fucking diplomat with me my friend.” Raymond’s voice rumbles in his chest, he catches Guillaumes eye.

 

“Go and find Descoteaux, I may have need of him” Guillaume slips quietly from the room.

 

“So when do we leave for Paris and what is the real reason Phillipe demands my presence?”

 

Geoffroy hesitates a little and toys with his wine cup.

“By Sunday morning at the latest, so that allows us plenty of time if we leave before dawn tomorrow and as to the other matter, I think you might say he is experiencing a little trouble.

”

“Oh” Raymond flashes a brittle smile at him “Would that be in general or in particular?

 

“In particular and he intends that it should be quashed, permanently, for that he requires your assistance and expertise.” 

 

Two knocks at the door and Guillaume enters with Descoteaux behind him.

 

“Guillaume, show Sieur Maçon to the large chamber next to mine, make sure he has everything he requires”

 

“So shall I have the pleasure of meeting the woman you hope will become the future Madame de Merville, Raymond?” 

 

Geoffroy can’t help but wonder to himself just what stamp of a woman has snared Raymond and wrested this embittered man away from the embrace of the beautiful Eleanor. He doesn’t fail to notice the warmer look in his friends blue eyes and the slight smile settles on his lips.

 

“Indeed you will my friend, and although I can’t guarantee you will enjoy the experience you might well find it interesting” Raymond’s smile broadens further.

 

“Until dinner then Raymond, I need to bathe and clean away the filth of the road and as I do so I shall indulge myself with some of your best wine, lead on Guillaume”

 

For a few moments Raymond sits and drums the fingers of his left hand against the chair arm, beating out a rapid tattoo he looks up at Descoteaux

 

“Have his men been billeted?”

 

“Yes as best we can, though some will have to sleep with their horses.”

 

“How many are there al told?”

 

“Thirty Sieur”

 

“Then we shall take thirty of our own men and we leave before dawn tomorrow”

 

Descoteaux nods. “Sieur, which horse will you ride?”

 

“I’ll take Volucer, he’ll be as fresh when we arrive in Paris as he is when we leave here.”

 

Descoteaux bows and thinks to himself 

**_“Aye and he’s a finer horse than anything the King has in his stables”_** `

Guillaume leads the way up to the stairs

 

“I hope you will be comfortable Sieur, the bathing tub should have been filled for you and when you are settled I shall  have wine and some food sent up for you, if there is anything else you require you have only to ask”

 

But Geoffroy isn’t listening, he is watching two women carrying items into the chamber next to his, one of them is wearing a dress of a rich red colour. The dress of a fine Lady not some little housemaid and he allows himself a sly smile.  
Waving Guillaume aside he steps forward.

 

“Well, well you are a pretty little baggage.” He stands in front of Isabé and rakes his gaze down her from the crown of her head, to the toes of her shoes and back again then reaches out and cups his hand beneath her chin.

 

“Siuer,” Guillaume steps forward “Sieur, this is……” He is waved away with a flick of a hand and at the same time Isabé shoots her Brother a look and he shuts up pressing his lips together.

 

Geoffroy forges on “And who might you be my sweet?”

 

I paste a simpering smile on my face and flutter my lashes, glancing up at him with a coy look.

 

“Isabé, Sieur” the soft singsong lit of my voice causes Guillaume to bite his lip. He knows it spells trouble.

 

“A lovely name”

 

His hand slides from my jaw, down over my neck and he traces a single finger straight down to my breast.

 

“Aye” my voice changes “A pretty name and one you will come to know better”

 

Geoffroy Maçon glares at me with those brilliant emerald eyes.

 

“I am Isabé Pelletier and I suggest you remove your hand this instant, or you will come to regret your actions”

 

“Are you threatening me?” His voice has dropped to a growl.

 

“It is no threat and I say again I am Isabé Pelletier”

 

“Should that mean something to me?”

 

“For the man who is an envoy of the King and also one of his spies, you are either remarkably ill-informed or remarkably stupid Geoffroy Maçon” 

 

He raises his brows “How can you know me, how dare you speak to me in that way you baggage?” He raises his hand to me but I hold my ground and glare at him” 

 

“I am the woman who is to be the wife of Sieur Raymond de Merville, I know who you are and what you are”

 

My voice is sharp and as the barb hits the mark, he seems shocked and he takes a step backwards.

 

I step forward toe to toe with him “If I had been a housemaid, serving maid or laundry maid, would you have been so ashamed, so repentant?

 

His Adams apple bobs up and down as he swallows hard and tries to stutter out a reply. The King’s envoy is easily flustered, too easily it seems.

 

“Forgive me Mam’selle, I beg you forgive me I did not know who you were”

 

**_ “Oh but you did you bastard, you most surely did” _ **

 

For a moment I watch him squirm “Take this as a fair warning, if you behave in such a way to any and I mean any woman in this Chateau during the rest of your stay here, you’ll be using your cods to decorate your horse harness. Make no mistake on that Geoffroy for I will geld you myself.

Your rank may afford you rights and privileges elsewhere but not here and they most certainly do not give you free reign to paw and grope  the women in this household no matter who they may be.”

 

There is a seemingly anxious expression on those handsome features. 

 

“O have no fear,  I shall not tell Raymond, I don’t need him to fight my battles for me.”

 

Guillaume turns a snorting laugh into a cough and there are actually tears forming in his eyes.

 

“Guillaume please go and bring wine for Sieur Geoffroy, I’m sure he would appreciate it. Until this evening then.” 

I spin away from him .

“Jehanne we must finish putting Sieur Raymond’s belongings back in his chambers, though whether I tell him it is done remains to be seen. A night in the stables with King’s men might do him good.”

 

But of course it will matter little to Raymond where he lays his head, he is a hard bitten soldier and sleeps where he drops.

I catch Jehanne watching me, a frown creases her brow and her eyes are slightly narrowed’

 

“What?”

 

“That man Isabé, you don’t like him” 

 

“No I do not, neither do I trust him, now let us finish here then I will need to wash the dust from me and change before we dine.”

She catches the smirk on my face.

 

“What are you planning Isabé?”

 

“Oh just a friendly little talk with Eleanor Forrestier, just so that she knows that being in my employ will not  give her easier access to Raymond”

 

“She will not be happy”

 

“That, Jehanne is not my concern, when we are done here would you please find her and send her to me, oh and would you quietly ask your “Friend” Captain Descoteaux to spare me a few moments of his time?”

 

I laugh as I catch sight of the flush blooming on her cheeks. 

 

“On second thoughts Jehanne, would you see if you can first find Madame Bérenger and ask her if she would come and speak with me? She will know plenty about Eleanor I’m sure and forewarned is forearmed.”

She skitters out of the room letting the door slam behind her.


	7. Chapter 7

I begin to remove my clothes, and am dressed only in my shift when I catch the sound of a gentle knock at my door.

“Enter”

Ghislane Bérenger bustles in and drops me a curtsey.

“There’s no need for that Ghislane, please sit and help yourself to some wine.”

She pours a little into the cup then waits whilst I tip water, followed by a little rose oil into the basin and slosh a cloth around in it.

“What can I help you with Isabé my dear?”

I wring out the cloth then wipe it over my face, neck and arms.

“What do you know of Eleanor Forrestier?” I look over my shoulder at her and see her swallow hard.

“Why do you ask me?” She cocks her head at me and her eyebrows rise in a question.

“Because”, I smile. “I am certain that little, if anything, which happens inside these walls escapes your notice, also I know I can rely on you to tell me the truth.”

I pour wine for myself and top up Ghislane’s cup.

“Very well, Eleanor is just thirty, she was born in Rouen, her mother was a merchant’s daughter a good family and fairly wealthy, her father was a Goldsmith not only a craftsman but a real artist with rich and influential patrons and he was from an even wealthier family. Then of course she was not Forrestier, she was Eleanor Paget, Forrestier is her married name.”

“Married?” I can’t keep the surprise from my voice. “Dieu, how does that sit with her husband, or is he one of those men who are content to turn a blind eye, in the hope of gaining something in return from Raymond?”

“No Isabé, Eleanor Forrestier is a widow,”

“Her husband was one of Raymond’s men, her family were against the match, but Alain Forrestier was rich, persuasive and Eleanor was madly in love with him it became her undoing, she could not see the man he was”

When I speak my voice is flat and I know I am wearing what Blanche would call my uncharitable expression.

“Are you trying to make me feel pity for her Ghislane?”

“No, Eleanor Forrestier is not a woman who seeks pity” There is a sharp edge to her voice. “Alain Forrestier was a cruel, jealous, bully of a man. A drunkard who started one too many brawls and who’s life bled away in a tavern yard five years ago”

“It is only right that you know there were already rumours about Eleanor and Raymond, she had turned to him for help a few months before Alain died. Gambling debts, money lavished on other women, he owed money all over the city. That man left her nothing when he died, his fortune and her dowry all gone on and it’s said that Raymond paid off all the creditors. Eleanor was lucky to keep a few meagre possessions and the clothes she stood up in”

“So she repaid him with the use of her body, because it was all she had?”

“Sometimes I think you are too quick to judge Isabé, women will do what they need to do I suppose and who can blame them for that?”  

I bridle at her rebuke and grip at my wine cup. The look Ghislane gives me searches straight down into the depths of my soul. My throat tightens, I hardly dare speak and the words crack and crumble in my mouth.

“What more do you have to tell me about Eleanor and Raymond?” I whisper at her and she lays her hand over mine. I could cut the silence with a knife and her expression tells me I won’t like what I am about to hear.

“Raymond and Eleanor have been as man and wife in all but name for almost 5 years.” She hesitates and tightens her grip on my hand “There is a child my dear, a girl, Nicolette.”

I start to speak, but the words will not come out. I motion to Ghislane to continue her tale as I take a gulp of wine to ease the dryness in my throat.

“I truly believe that Nicolette is Raymond’s daughter, she was born just a little too long after Alain’s death to be the product of _his_ seed.”

“But there are no other children?”

“No, no more, Eleanor suffered greatly at the birth so perhaps that is the reason”

“And Raymond would not marry her?”

“S _he_ would not marry him. Why, I don’t know, perhaps because she felt she might not be able to give him an heir, or perhaps because Alain was such a dreadful man that she couldn’t face being trapped in another marriage.”

A stillness descends on the room, for a few moments I watch the dust motes dancing in the beams of late afternoon sunlight, then I close my eyes and lean my head against the back of my chair.

I feel strangely calm now, my breathing is deep and steady.

_“Secrets, women and their secrets. Blanche, Eleanor, Jehanne, probably Ghislane and me? Oh yes I too have my secrets and they will soon need to be addressed._

“Here’s to tomorrow Ghislane, let us hope we win the battle of setting this place to rights”

“It will certainly take more elbow grease than hope” she snorts “But I’m sure we’ll manage to get it done”

When I open my eyes she’s is watching me closely as I smile and raise my wine cup to her.

“How could I know that in only two days I would see such a change in my life and an unlooked for change at that.”

“I think” she hesitates a moment and bites at her bottom lip “I think that you and Raymond will do very well together”

“Pfft, you clearly have a romantic streak Ghislane are you sure it is not misplaced?”

“Oh I don’t doubt the pair of you will love and hate each other with an equal passion”

Her eyes slide from mine and she is in another place and time, a small sweet smile settles on her lips and I sit quietly watching her as she remembers happier times.

“Oh forgive me Isabé, I was,” her smile widens “well it is of no matter.” 

“Good memories Ghislane?”

“Oh yes, very good memories, my dear Luc and me, we were so like you and Raymond, storm clouds every day, but when the storm blew over, well I’ll just say the sun burned exceedingly hot.” Her cheeks flush a little with the pleasure of remembering and she actually giggles.

“I think for us there will be more storm than sunshine my friend”

She pats my hand again “Mark my words well Isabé” and she wags her finger at me. “That man will love you like no other” her smile grows wide.

My laugh echoes around the room

“Oh Ghislane if that proves to be true then I shall gladly eat hay with a mule and everyone in the Chateau may watch me do it.”

I look around the room, unlike Raymond’s chamber the walls are smoothed over with white plaster. To my right the wall where the three small windows are set, is painted all over with a delicate lifelike design of twining leafy boughs, small flowers and colourful birds. Something grips tightly at my heart.

“Whose room was this?” my voice is tentative and Ghislane can’t hold my questioning look.

“Tell me it was not Eleanor’s”

“I would be guilty of a lie if I said it was not, yes until a month ago, when she was given rooms elsewhere, but years ago it was Madame de Merville’s private chamber. I myself supervised the cleaning ready for your arrival

I feel my Jaw tense. “So he ousted his Mistress from her chamber but not from his bed?” “How long has it been known here that Raymond was set to take me as his wife?

Ghislane drops the corners of her mouth and shrugs. “Two or three months I suppose and forgive me for saying Isabé but there were more than a few eyebrows raised when it became known that...”

“Oh don’t worry Ghislane, I’m well aware of the flurry it has caused, throwing this queen cat into the de Merville dovecote.

We are interrupted by a knocking at the door.

“Quickly Isabé, you are not dressed let me help you.”

“It’s of no matter” I pull an embroidered blue robe over my shift, smooth down my uncovered hair, settle in my chair and place my bare feet on a small padded foot stool.

Ghislane watches Isabé in admiration as she squares her shoulders and takes a deep breath. She is exactly what she appears to be a young woman sure of her own worth, unafraid and ready to do battle. No woman who lacked courage would dream of meeting her adversary in such an informal state of undress.

Another knock.

“Enter”

A smirk on her face, Jehanne glides in with Eleanor Forrestier at her heels.

“Thank you Jehanne, would you please go and find Capt Descoteaux and ask him to come and speak with me? This matter should not take too long”

I see Eleanor check at that.

“I will come with you Jeahnne”, Ghislane lifts her ample frame from the chair opposite me. “Thank you for the wine Isabé, I will be ready with the housemaids and the laundresses in the morning and when we have set them to work we will wage war on Fournier, until then my dear”

“Thank you for your advice my friend”

She follows Jehanne and pausing briefly turns and winks at me from the doorway before closing the door softly behind her.

**_Oh yes Isabé Pelettier, you will do well, you will do very well indeed”_ **

Eleanor Forrestier, hands clasped in front of her, stands straight backed and looks down her nose at me.

**_“Bitch”_ **

I also notice that she has changed her gown, the blue cloth is so dark it is almost black and it enhances her complexion.

“You wish to see me Isabé?”

Her voice is sharp and underlying it there is something else, a note of superiority. Eleanor makes it sound as if answering the request to come and speak with me is not only inconvenient but completely beneath her. She clearly feels that as Raymond’s long time mistress her status is far above mine.

“Madame Forrestier, there are things you and I must discuss, but firstly let me make one or two things quite clear.”

Her eyes narrow and I see her shoulders rise and fall as she draws in and puffs out a breath signifying her annoyance.

“Just so there are no misunderstandings as to our respective positions, let us begin with a little courtesy. Firstly, as you know I am soon to be married to Sieur Raymond, when that happens you **_will_** address me as Madame de Merville until then I am Mam’selle Pelletier to you, I hope that is understood.”

As her cheeks redden, her jaw tightens and she clasps her hands more tightly, the skin of her knuckles is taut and white.

Finally she speaks and her voice is so quiet as she forces it between gritted teeth that I can hardly hear.

“It is understood, _Mam’selle Pelletier._ ” There is nothing conciliatory or courteous in her tone no matter how softly she speaks.

“Secondly, from this point on, you will never again lay with Sieur Raymond, I know what you are to him Madame, you are his wife in all but name and I also know that you bore his child yet the two of you never married?

I watch her carefully from beneath lowered eye lids, she twists her fingers in the fabric of her gown. It is then I notice the ring on her right hand, a slim gold band topped with a deeply set red stone. Discreet and pretty, I can only assume that it was given to her by Raymond. It accorded her some status, marked her as something other than his whore. She may as well have had “I belong to Raymond de Merville written across her forehead”

Eleanor catches my glance, gives over twisting her hands together and turns the ring around and around on her finger.

“Sieur Raymond asked you marry him?”

She nods briefly

“Then why did you not accept?”

“Because it is doubtful I could have given him an heir and a man like Raymond needs an heir, or someday the de Merville lands and fortune will pass to some distant cousin who is a wastrel and a fool”

**“ _Well there are no guarantees Eleanor, and no guarantee that I will bear a son or any child.”_**

“I lost one child to my husband and there were no more, I lost one child to Sieur Raymond then bore Nicolette” her smile is soft and tinged with sadness. “Raymond loves her dearly but her birth was so hard.” she looks away from me as she remembers. “So very hard, I have never been with child again and I know in my own heart I never shall be”

So, they were indeed lovers before Alain died. Whilst I doubt I shall ever be friends with Eleanor Forrestier, my opinion of her as been somewhat altered. She hurts, deeply and I have a new vision in my head of Raymond and Nicolette. I can see she is trembling, there is pain on her face and she is back to twisting her hands.

“Eleanor, Eleanor sit down, please and take some wine” I speak softly and she slumps into the chair.

I pour for her and slide the wine cup along the table, as she lifts it to her mouth and takes a swallow, it shakes alarmingly in her trembling fingers.

“Do you love Raymond?” Of course I know the answer, but I need to hear it from her own lips.

For a moment Eleanor hesitates, looks at the floor, the wall, anywhere but at me, then squeezes her eyes shut and flutters them open again.

“Yes, how can I not?” she takes another sip of wine “Raymond is my life, my protector, the father of my child, Yes I love him but......” and yet another swallow of wine. The next words are croaked from her mouth, broken and hoarse. “He does not love me, oh he cares for me, protects me and provides for me and Nicolette but love......no”  

Wide eyed Eleanor glances around the room and then back at me and when she does, there are tears forming in her eyes.

“I will speak plain with you Mam’selle if I may, I am worried, for Raymond de Merville has made it quite plain he will stop providing for me and his child on the day you become his wife”

I feel my jaw drop and my eyes fly wide, Raymond is a hard man but I cannot believe he would be so brutal as to cast them aside completely. He has dealt with Guillaume much more kindly than this and my Brother could be castrated for what he is.

One fat tear rolls down her left cheek and she dashes it away.

“Surely that can’t be, there must be a misunderstanding.”

“I do not believe so” her voice is flat.

I should perhaps be pleased that she would be out of the way, but I am furious with that arrogant, cold hearted bastard.

“It will not happen Eleanor, I promise you it will not happen.”

A hollow laugh echoes around the room that until a month ago she herself occupied.

“Whatever Raymond de Merville decrees might as well be carved in stone, he will not change his mind and I doubt even you would be able to make him.”

Standing, I hold out my hand to her, she grasps it and flicks her gaze up to me waiting.

“An unwritten treaty between us then, you will swear to me that you will never again lay with Raymond and I will ensure that he continues to provide for you and Nicolette are we agreed”

Still clasping my hand as she rises to her feet.

“It is a hard bargain, to give up a man after five years, but I will not see my child want for anything, ever!”

“Oh be sure that if you once break this bargain, there will be no longer a place here for you, I hold to my word as fiercely as Raymond”

Eleanor does not answer straight way, her face is set, she is fighting herself and I feel her fingers tighten around mine.

“I understand.”

“Then there is little else to say Madame Forrestier”

“As you wish Mam’selle Pelletier”

She turns away and makes for the door, then looks back at me.

“Jehanne bade me tell you that she finds my needlework very good”

I crack out a laugh.

“Then I shall most certainly take you into my employ, a very good from Jehanne is equal to superb from anyone else”

I see her first real smile as she whispers “Thank you” and lets herself out of the room.

Pulling a robe from the chest I dress quickly and all the while I am vilifying Raymond. Then the earth rocks,

A heavy knock at the door and Capt Descoteaux strides in, followed by Jehanne and before the door is closed Raymond follows.

“Raymond, I do not recall inviting you into my chamber, if you will excuse me I have something to discuss with Capt Descoteaux.”

Raymond ignores the rebuke and continues. “In saw Ele...” He corrects himself “Madame Forrestier leave this room what were you discussing?”

Glaring at him I do not answer.

“Isabé” he growls

I shoot him my best withering look and turn back to Mathieu Descoteaux.

“Capt, thank you for taking time to come and see me I would like your opinion on something, or rather someone”

“Jehanne, would you leave us please” she scowls at me as I have denied her of both the opportunity to moon over the Captain and the possibility of witnessing another spat between myself and Raymond.

Her eyes flick from the Capt to Raymond then to me, then she frowns, curtseys and leaves without a word

“Capt what is your opinion of Geoffroy Maçon?”

My unsubtle approach startles him and before he gathers himself to answer, Raymond hisses in his breath and snarls at me.

“Would it not be more appropriate to ask me, Geoffroy is an old friend I should know him better than most”

“Which means you are biased, I want the opinion of someone who will not be, Capt Descoteaux please be honest with me”

The craggily handsome Capt rakes his hand back through his black hair as he considers his words carefully.

“In truth, I would rather have him on my side than not, but with Geoffroy Maçon you can never be sure which way he will jump”

“So then you do not trust him?”

“Rather let us say I am cautious Mam’selle, he is a powerful man in the employ of the king” Mathieu smiles at me. “I think he is like a dog.”

“How so?”

“A clever dog will always lay beside the table where he is sure of the best scraps”

Raymond dismisses him “You have said enough Descoteaux, you may leave us we will discuss this later”

“As you will Sieur, Mam’selle”

The moment he is gone Raymond rounds on me.

“What in god’s name are you about Isabé?”

“Just making sure of something in my own mind”

“Which is?” Raymond pours wine for himself and adds impatiently. “I’m waiting for your answer”

“Geoffroy Maçon is a dangerous man”

“Of course he is, the work he does demands it” A low laugh rumbles from his chest.

“He is dangerous to you Raymond, do not trust him”

I tell him of my encounter with Geoffroy and still he cannot bring himself to think of his friend as a potential danger.

“You are surely mistaken”

“No Raymond, he knew exactly who I was, he was baiting me and by doing so I think he hoped to bait you”

He starts to laugh “Well whatever his motives I would have given anything to have seen his face when you threatened to geld him.”


	8. Chapter 8

Raymond opens the door wide, leaving it so that anyone passing can see in. I huff and snort, rolling my eyes heavenwards. “I have told you Isabé there must be no hint of indecorous behaviour you have no chaperone” Raymond could be an old stick in the mud and so conventional when he chose, it didn’t really suit him and I laughed.

“I have already scandalised the household, so I think you are a little late with that Raymond” He did not rise to my bait but set his arrow straight to the mark. “Why was Eleanor here?” “I wished to discuss the terms of her employment with me.” “Indeed, and she found them satisfactory? When he speaks his voice is low and level **_“Oh you are a cool one Raymond, very cool, well this might heat you up a little you arrogant bastard.”_**

“She found the terms a little challenging”

A deep frown settles on his brow and he presses his lips into a thin tight line, waiting for me to continue.

“All you need to know Raymond is that we have reached an agreement, quite simply she will never lay with you again and you will continue to provide for her and your child”

Spluttering and coughing Raymond almost chokes on his wine. I jump a little as he bangs the wine cup hard down slopping wine over the table and in a second he has a fierce grip on my upper arms, fingers dig deep into the flesh there will be bruises for certain.

“You did what?” The fury in his voice is unmistakeable and his breath is hot on my face as he leans into me.

“You dare interfere woman?”

“I dare, Mon Dieu Raymond, I know that  by reputation you are hard man, sometimes a pitiless man but I never thought you could be such a bastard as to abandon the woman who has lived as your wife these past years.” 

My voice rises to a shout.

“What of your child, will you see her penniless and destitute?”

Raymond’s eyes are blown wide and almost black with rage, it is some moments before he can calm himself.

“Raymond, please think on what you have done, have some compassion, Eleanor well knows that you have never really loved her but she deserves more than to be discarded like an old shoe, could you bear never to see Nicolette again?”

My eyes flutter closed, I swallow hard and wait for the storm but it does not come and I feel Raymond shift slightly as he presses his forehead to mine, his breath is warm on my face and he slackens his grip.

Velvet soft his voice slides over me. “What am I to do with you Isabé, you are turning my life upside down at every given opportunity,” 

I open my eyes and stare into his, they are not so dark now but rather an intense blue and his lips are perilously close to me.

“Did you truly tell Eleanor you would not provide for her and your daughter?”

“Yes I did”

“But why Raymond, why would you do such a thing and don’t you dare use me as an excuse for your shameful decision, don’t you dare. You must promise me you will continue Eleanor’s allowance.”  

**“Isabé ma pauvre, pauvre fille, tu as été dupée

“Yes Eleanor Forrestier is indeed a clever women to have fooled you into making a bargain she knows you cannot keep.”

He hugs me, then still holding me in his arms leans back a little, smiling and shaking his head.

“I supposed I can’t blame her Raymond you have admitted to stopping her …….”

“For once stop your tongue rattling and just listen Isabé,” Raymond spits out as he leaves go of me and stands back arms folded across his chest.

“Yes I have stopped her allowance, in telling you that she did not lie, but neither did she tell you the whole truth of it.” There is a soft smile on his face as he continues quietly. “Eleanor Forrestier now occupies some of the finer quarters in the Chateau, added to that I have settled a substantial sum of money on her and Nicolette from my personal funds. It will be reviewed each year and she may draw on it at any time.”

For the second time this afternoon I feel my jaw drop.

“No she did not tell me the cunning, artful, Bitch” my voice is so quiet I am surprised Raymond catches what I say. 

“Now because she knows I cannot hold to my part of the bargain, she will think she still has a claim on you” I pace back and forth in front of Raymond. “She will worm her way back into your life, into your bed.”

On the third time of passing he grabs at my arm and curls his long fingers firmly around my wrist.

“Isabé, stop it will not happen and why would it bother you if she did?”

I ignore the question because I can’t answer or rather I don’t want to.

“How can you promise me that, when she has been part of your life for so long?”

My fingers ball into tight, hard, white knuckled fists. I am burning with anger, shaking with it, for I have realised what she has done, he grasps my other wrist holding me firm and pulling me until I stand before him.

“Raymond let go of me this is not finished. I shall drag her through the hall by her hair, I will shame her and the devious, scheming baggage that she is, she will wish she had never been born. I trusted her, I can’t believe she drew me in.

”But he holds me fast.

“So do you love her?”

“No,” He sighs and flutters his eyes closed for a moment. “No, I have never loved Eleanor, I have cared for her and protected her yes, but love, not for one moment.” Sadness clouds his eyes and sweeps across his face, and I know that he still burns for the woman who left him years ago, who betrayed him with another.

“But you offered to marry her”

“I will not lie to you Isabé, Eleanor has brought me solace and comfort, she has tended my wounds, eased my thoughts, held me close and spoken soft words when my nightmares and my blackest days threatened to shatter my mind. She has been my salvation and my lover but never my love.” 

My hands are relaxed now and releasing his grip on me he lets his fall away and bows his head a little. The sun has moved past the windows and the light in the room has softened, Raymond’s face is shadowed but his eyes burn bright.

“Promise me Isabé that you will not deal too harshly with Eleanor, for Nicolette’s sake.” 

I would swear on an oath that there are tears forming in his eyes.

“She will hear things about her Mother soon enough my only wish is to try and protect her for as long as I can, just as Blanche has protected you all these years.”

“Oh you are a clever bastard Raymond,” I shake my head at him. ”That was an assassin’s cut, swift, sharp and from out of nowhere.”

“Think on it Isabé, think on how you have been protected. I wish that for my own child”

“But Eleanor will still try to have you as her lover, I know she will.”

With his lips pressed together in a thin tight smile, he watches me then his smile broadens into a grin.

“We can all be deceived Isabé”

“Please Raymond don’t make me feel worse than I do, I was stupid and I’m sure Eleanor will try to take full advantage of that, she would be a fool if she did not”

Vibrant and rich his laugh echoes around the room and slides over me as he steps closer, takes hold of my fingers and draws me towards him until our clasped hands rest against the centre of his chest.

“I am a staid old soldier the years are catching up with me and I have little appetite or inclination now for more than one woman at a time, the whoring days of my youth are far, far behind me. I will speak with Eleanor and make her understand so please”, his voice surprisingly quiet and gentle. “Do nothing, promise me, do nothing.” 

 ** _“Clever, clever, Raymond.”_** He knows that to obey a command is simple thing to accomplish, but to abide by a promise, oh that is so much more difficult”

“No Raymond, I will make her understand”

“Oh I have no doubt could do that my little hot head, but promise me you will not.” 

His soft voice turns to a soothing purr as he lowers his head and where he brushes his mouth against my brow, the skin warms and tingles beneath his lips.

“Very well, I promise.” 

Again his mouth spreads into a broad smile his eyes light up and creases form and settle in their outer corners, I grin back at him then his smile fades a little.

“What is really bothering you Raymond, you obviously came to discuss something other than Eleanor for you knew nothing of that until I told you.”

His fingers tighten a little more around mine “Isabé our wedding, it must be delayed I am commanded to be in Paris on the Kings business and I leave before dawn.” 

“So that is why Geoffroy Maçon is here?”

“Indeed, who better to send than a friend?”

I start to speak but he cuts me short. “Yes Isabé I know what you think of him, I know your misgivings, but remember as his friend I am not only aware of his good points, I know exactly who and what Geoffroy Maçon is.” I know from Raymonds eyes the matter of Geoffroy is closed.

“May I ask what the Kings Business entails?” 

I will not know everything until I speak with His Majesty, although I do know he wishes discuss my choice of bride, I understand from Geoffroy that Philip does not entirely approve” 

“Oh, indeed, so do I assume he will try to foist some rich, beautiful, addle brained idiot on you?”

“Of course he will, but I prefer someone with brains and spirit and you have more than enough of both, but then perhaps a quieter life may suit me better”

“By all means accept her Raymond please I beg of you, accept her and save me the trial of marrying you” I try to keep my face straight and my voice snappy but I catch the twinkle in his eyes and as he smirks at me and his eyebrows fly up to his hair I start to laugh, but Raymond turns a little more serious again. 

“It is unlikely I shall return within the week, so perhaps we should look to a week from Saturday?”

My mind is frantically working over the time it will take him. 

“So two days to Paris, two days to return and how long will the Kings business take?”

“I hope to God no more than two or three days, why will you miss me sweet Isabé?”

“Pffft, you Sieur Raymond have far too high an opinion of yourself, not I will not miss you” And I absolutely believed what I had said.

It is then I realise than we have been standing so very close, our fingers still entwined both our hands resting against his chest, slowly I pull away from him.

“Raymond, no matter that you know Geoffroy well, be careful, I don’t care that he is your friend he is not a man to be trusted.”

Without answering he steps out of the room. Then I know there is something I must must tell him and I race after him.

“Raymond!” 

Halting at the top of the stairs he turns, cocks his head, hooks his thumbs through his belt and stands relaxed with an impassive expression, waiting to hear what I have to say.

“Raymond, we have been dealing in truths and there is something I must confess to you.”

How to tell him? Frank and forthright he will understand that.

“Sieur Raymond, I must tell you that you are getting a bad bargain with me, for you will not be taking a virgin into your bed when we wed.”

I can’t fathom why the expression on his face does not change.

“Not only that” It is hard to continue but I cannot stop now. “Not only that, I bore a child, but life for that poor scrap ended almost before it began”

Hot tears are brimming up in my eyes, my throat burns.

“Please you must not hold Blanche and Henri to account for any of it, they did not know and I carried the child for such a short time that it barely showed.” I rattle on still managing to hold the tears at bay. “Only Jehanne knew, she found me on the day I lost the child and she has protected me and kept my secret ever since.” 

Still silent, Raymond sweeps his gaze over me.

“This is no ruse Sieur Raymond, if you wish me to leave, if you wish to take someone else as your wife then I will understand,”

“Did you love him, the father of your child did you love him? I am taken aback by the gentleness of his tone.

“Yes, yes I did.”

“Isabé, you are not a fool and that you have chosen to tell me this of your own volition, says much about you, but I already know of your past.”

It takes me a moment to realise what he has said, then my heart lurches and the tears fall, flowing hot and fast down my cheeks.

“How could you know?”

“Isabé, unearthing information is what I do”

In the last three days Raymond has manhandled me, kissed me, slapped me and made an example of me in public. But when he brushes the fingers of his right hand slowly across my forehead and down my cheek, his touch is light and gentle in spite of the fact I feel callouses rasp slightly against my skin and it takes me by surprise when he brushes the pad of his thumb back and forth across my lips making my breath catch in my throat.

Moving so quickly that I hardly realise it, his right hand is cradling my head, his left arm has snaked around my waist pulling me into him as his mouth burns against mine with soft but searing kisses, his tongue flicks against my lips in a silent, sweet entreaty for more. I cannot resist and moan against his mouth, deeper and deeper I fall into the rhythm of tongues and lips and hands. His fingers grip tighter against my arse and I still feel the pain from his beating as he pulls me closer, moulding our bodies together. My hands which are pressed against his chest, move of their own volition, and unbidden they crawl up his back to clutch and claw at the fabric of his tunic. 

**_“Oh Dieu how will his skin feel under my fingers, how will his warm flesh and hard body feel against me, skin on skin?”_ **

I remember the sight of him a few hours ago his naked, virile body belying his age. My blood turns to molten gold flowing through my veins, heating me, making my head swim and my heart pound, I cannot think straight. But I know in my heart that if he wanted to hitch up my skirts, slam me against the wall and fuck me like a tavern whore whilst the whole household watched, I would let him do it, oh yes I would let him do it. I would wrap my arms around his neck and lock my legs around his waist without a thought or care for reputation, without regret or shame. 

Raymond draws his mouth away from mine so exquisitely slowly, I need air but I do not want to let him go. He presses hot kisses against my jaw, my neck and I tilt my head back giving him more flesh to assault. Then he gathers me into his arms and holds me. The feel of his cheek resting against the top of my head and the sound of his heart beating fast and strong is a comfort as I stand in the circle of his arms and I lean against his chest.

Life in a Chateau, is mostly lived in public, but folks tend to mind their own business, they hear and see what they need to, as for the rest of it they ignore it. To do otherwise would most likely drive a person insane, people create their own little worlds and generally disregard everything else, yet when I draw away from Raymond the eyes of almost everyone in the hall are upon us. Squire, nudges squire, women sigh and giggle men exchange no doubt lewd remarks. 

I close my eyes against it and as I do Raymond kisses my forehead, my cheek and lifts my hand to his lips pressing a warm kiss to the palm. All I can do is sigh. 

“Will you miss me now?” he has lowered his voice, and it makes me shiver. Caught like a rabbit in a snare I have no escape.

“Your kisses will not make me change my mind about you Raymond de Merville you arrogant bastard. I shall only miss you in the same way a mangy cur misses his fleas, which is to say not at all” I croak at him

“Liar Isabé,” his voice rumbles in his throat, “There is such a heat in you and even though you say you will not miss me and tell yourself you cannot love me, your body gives the lie to that” 

“Then take care you do not get burned Sieur Raymond, though I for one would gladly see you go up in flames like the Devil you are” His laugh bursts out and bounces off the walls.

“I will see you in hall Isabé, for the evening meal” 

Shaking his head, he roars with laughter again as he clatters down the stairs, as for me, I stand and watch him, not so much because he is easy on my eye, but simply that for the moment my legs are trembling so much I can barely keep upright and I certainly dare not move without fear of falling. For the second time today he has shaken me so.

Looking down over the balustrade I catch sight of Guillaume, even from here I know he has sad eyes though he is smiling, he nods up at me and raises his hand, my heart aches for him but I know he will always be loyal to Raymond, always.

Geoffroy on the other hand is a different prospect I have no certainty of his loyalty to his friend and when I see him he grins, nods and resumes his conversation with the woman at his side, her face is set, there is no emotion not even anger. The face of Eleanor Forrestier may as well be carved in stone. The thought that the pair of them might have anything to talk about worries me deeply.

**“Isabé my poor, poor girl you have been fooled”1


	9. Chapter 9

The Chateau resembles nothing so much as a Barracks. For too long it has been the domain of hard bitten soldiers who are used to the privations of life and who give little thought to comfort and even cleanliness to some degree. The grubby, grimy Hall reminds me of a faintly malodorous kennel. For long enough there has been no women living here with a high enough status to bring about any great change.

That will soon be remedied and as I sit at table, I cast my eyes along the dusty walls and up into the gloomy heights of the roof space, where the beams are adorned with dust and dangling cobwebs. The wall above the large fireplace is greasy and smoke blackened also every inch of the floor will need to be scrubbed. I know what needs to be done, we will start high and work down to the flagstones, not an easy task for this is a space almost a 100 feet long and half that in height and width. All of that dust and grime must be removed for I will not have my wedding feast in a hovel. 

Eleanor is not present at the evening meal and I am glad of it. At the Baron’s request I am seated between him and Raymond whilst Geoffroy seated to Raymond’s right and so is not too near me thank God.

“Monseigneur Baron, I have a favour to ask of you, it concerns the preparations for my wedding” 

“But of course Isabé, how could I refuse my future daughter-in-law?” He smiles indulgently “Though I am sure that Fournier has everything in hand with regard to the guests, the food and anything else, he is nothing if not thorough”

“Oh, of course I am sure he has and I mean no slight against him. I will speak with him tomorrow but this is a particular request and concerns the cleaning of this hall, you must surely admit that it is unkempt even a little squalid”  

Baron de Merville takes no offence and laughs.  
“Isabé my dear” he takes hold of my right hand and presses a kiss to the back of it. “How can I refuse your pretty face and your smile hein? “Do whatever you need to do, if it makes you happy then I am content” If I am stunned at his easy response, Raymond is even more so and chokes back a laugh. 

“Father, to give Isabé free reign may not be wise, I believe you have handed her the very stick with which she will beat you”

I scowl at him and earn a smirk in reply.

  
The Baron shrugs.  
“It is of no matter Raymond and I would have my daughter-in-law happy in her new home, what say you Raymond?” 

For certain there is some challenge being laid down here, cold blue eyes stare into cold blue eyes. Surprisingly Raymond is first to look away and the matter is closed.

Every look and smile from Raymond makes my face burn. His very nearness reminds me of how he made me feel only a little while ago. But he is courteous, attentive and makes sure I have everything I need, when he talks with me his voice is low and soft. Listening to him speak to his father and his friends I realise that he is much more than just a soldier. Oh yes Raymond is an educated man, he has an appreciation of fine things, a love of words, a quick mind, it seems I am forever learning something new and surprising about this man.

As is usual after the evening meal, everyone moves from their place at table to join with their friends in the body of the hall. Here they pass the time with in conversation, laughing and joking, sometimes gaming or making music. Or perhaps hey discuss the business and the politics of the day, only the men of course, for we women are not considered intelligent enough to understand the machinations of the world, if only they knew just how little escapes us. 

Raymond stands together with his father and Geoffroy Maçon. Though they converse with lowered voices their conversation seems intense and Raymond’s jaw is set firm as he listens to Geoffroy. Mathieu Descoteaux and Guillaume stand close by and from time to time exchange worried glances with each other. Slowly I try to move closer, but the few women of any status who reside here are hovering around me vying for my favour and approval. All that is, except for Ghislane and Jehanne who, when I glance at them are busy with their own conversation damn them, just when I need to be rescued from this onslaught of sycophancy, chit chat and feminine idiocy.

Finally I do manage to move close enough to overhear some of what Raymond is saying, his voice is brusque and he speaks rapidly. I’m sure they think I can neither hear nor understand what they are discussing but I was raised in the house of a soldier and know how to listen carefully. Raymond uses the words contract, mission and assassin, he talks of preparations and secrecy, Geoffroy reassures him all will be well, that the King will reward him handsomely and the Baron hisses that he would rather his son comes home alive. I try to make no sign that I have heard the exchange but the words fill me with dread and I shudder as if someone has walked over my grave. 

I am aware that the chatter around the hall  is dying away and I look over my shoulder to see that Eleanor has entered through the main door. That must mean that she has been given quarters in either the North East or the South East tower, well away from Raymond’s chambers.

As she moves further into the hall with a slow and stately tread, I see she is wearing the same midnight blue gown as before but her veil is finer and the circlet securing it to her head is a delicate, narrow band of gold. Around her waist a leather girdle, I can only assume the buckle and tip are also gold and it is decorated all along with mounts in the shape of flowers, each one with a pearl at its centre.  
No whore she, but a woman of status, Raymond has kept her in fine style and in spite of myself I can’t help but admire her bravado. Ahh she knows her worth.

Silence follows in her wake as she walks farther into the hall, I half expect folks to bow as she passes, such is her air of dignity. The fingers of her right hand curl lightly into the fabric of her gown, lifting it just clear of the floor and her left hand? Well those fingers are clasped around the hand of a child, a little girl with the creamy complexion of her mother and the same dark hair as both her sire and her dam. She skips alongside with a sweet smile on her face, which makes her cheeks puff out and they glow like blushed peaches. The cornflower blue of her dress mirrors the colour of her eyes, which in turn exactly match the blue of Raymond’s.

Nicolette is unmistakeably their child, an acorn who did not fall far from the tree. Suddenly she breaks from her Mother and runs towards Raymond as fast as her little legs will allow. 

“Papa, Papaaaa!” she flings herself at him and in one move he scoops her up in his arms and swings her around, not caring that those standing close by need to step back out of the way as they laugh together.

“Ah I knew my day had been too quiet you little hoyden, what mischief have you been up to?

That, it seems is not for the telling, she smiles coyly at him and loudly proclaims.

*“Je t'aime père, et tu es si beau”1

The laugh from Raymond is loud and joyous. “One day you little baggage you will twist some unsuspecting man around your fingers and I know for certain who will wear the britches in your household!” then more quietly he adds.

*“Je t'aime aussi mon petit moineau”2

Nicolette twines her arms around his neck and I catch the look on his face as they laugh together, a wide smile that lights his face, reaches to his eyes and she giggles as he kisses the tip of her pert little nose. He is smitten, he adores her and rather than set her down he settles her on his right hip, not the usual behaviour of a stern Father but I am slowly beginning to realise that Raymond is not the usual kind of man. Nicolette tucks herself into him and rests her head against his shoulder, I suspect she has this old soldier well and truly in the palm of hr hand.

Watching intently as Eleanor approaches I am aware of the glances shifting from her, to me and back again.  Halting  a mere pace away from Raymond, she bows her head low and drops the deepest, most elegant curtsey I have ever seen before tilting her face upwards to look at him.

“Sieur Raymond, I have a request that I hope you will consider favourably”

Eleanor keeps her tone measured and calm, but I notice that some of the warmth has left Raymond’s eyes.

“Then ask it and you shall have your answer one way or the other”

She hesitates at his tone and a momentary flash of panic flits across her face, but she holds firm.

“Raymond I have come to ask that you give Nicolette your name, that you formally accept her and acknowledge her as a de Merville.”  
Silence, absolute silence. I see Nicolette wriggle and before Raymond can answer Eleanor, a little voice pipes up.

“Papa, why did you not come to see me today?”

That indulgent smile comes back.

“You know I cannot always come to see you Nicolette my sweet”  
“Will you come tomorrow?”  
“I cannot little bird, tomorrow I must go to see the King and will be gone for some days”

Her face crumples into a pout, but at a kiss on her cheek from her beloved papa and she smiles settling against him once more as he turns his attention back to his Mistress.

“After 5 years why do you chose this moment to ask this of me Eleanor, have I ever denied that I am Nicolette’s Father and why chose to do it here rather than quietly in private? Nicolette wriggles and he sets her down but she will not leave his side and clings to him with her chubby fingers clutching at the fabric of his tabard.  Raymond looks down at her, smiling as he gently strokes his large hand over her hair.

A slight flush of anger settles on Eleanor’s face and she rises from her curtsey hazel eyes lock onto blue.  
“True, you have never denied her as your daughter Raymond, though neither have you taken great pains to admit to it” she hisses softly. “As for the other, It may as well be here as anywhere else and whatever your answer I shall have witnesses.” 

The tension between them can be sliced with a knife. Quietly I move across to Raymond’s side, curling my fingers around the balled fist that is his left hand I gradually work my fingers between his, he begins to relax.

Eleanor stands tall, proud and strikingly beautiful in her dark gown, whereas with my silver hair and dressed in pale grey, no matter that both the cloth and the cut are of the finest, I feel like a plain little colley dove compared to her.

“Raymond,” I smile up at him. “Agree to this, you know it can only be for the good”  
“Isabé, this is not your concern.” His voice is level and cool.  
“I am making it my concern” My own voice is clipped “Have you not already lectured me on the subject of Mothers protecting their children?” He closes his eyes for a moment and when he opens them again he answers Eleanor in a firm voice that carries around the hall.

“I agree, let all here know that I accept and confirm Nicolette as my daughter. When I return from Paris it will be done according to law but from this moment she will be Nicolette de Merville and is to be acknowledged as such. Are you content Eleanor?” The angles and planes of his face are like stone.

She steps forward places her hands against his cheeks and draws him into a kiss, a deep, hungry, passionate kiss pressing her body firmly against him. Then my world is shattered, as Raymond frees his hand from mine and cups it around the back of her head as he holds her in a tight embrace returning her kiss with equal fervour and desire and there they stand Mother, Father and child. I turn on my heel fixing a tight little smile on my face and with a steady pace head towards the great door. Ghislane and Jehanne are rigid with shock, the other ladies twitter and prattle amongst themselves. As I reach the steps to the courtyard I begin to run and head straight for the stables. One of the boys scrambles to his feet as I enter.

“I need Athène, don’t bother with her saddle”

“But Mams’elle are you sure?”

“I’m sure, I was taught to ride by a soldier, a bridle will suffice so long as you hitch me up”  
In no time I am on her back and racing towards the gates, yelling at the guards to open them but they are slow and I have to reign up sharply.

“It is urgent, let me pass.” 

“It is well past curfew Mam’selle we cannot open the gates”

“For God’s sake shift your arses and let me pass.”

“Now, Now, there’s no need for that my pretty, what’s the rush, off to see your young man eh?” One of the younger guards’ sidles up to me a smirk on his lips.

“My name is Isabé Pelletier, soon to be wife of Sieur Raymond.”  

**_“Not so likely now though, the bastard”_ **

The guard looks again.

“Sweet Christ, so it is, beg pardon Mam’selle.”  
“Open the gates lads and let the Mam’selle through”

They slide back the bar, swing back the heavy gates and as soon as the gap is wide enough for me to pass through without smashing my knees against the solid wood, I touch my heels to the mare and she springs forward clattering across the bridge over the moat. Already I hear Raymond yelling for them to stop me. Too late, I am away, riding without a saddle is no hardship for me.

Although it is late evening, there is still enough light to see, for it is no darker than dusk. At this time of the year the sun barely goes down before it is rises again and the night sky never grows truly black. I ride hard and fast not caring about the direction and for the second time that day I lose my veil and my hair streams out behind me. Tears do not come for I am too angry even to cry and I feel as if my heart will explode in my chest, all I want is to be away from here so I kick on down the track towards the river keeping the wood to my right hand side. As I ride I call Raymond all the foul names I can bring to mind and I sing them over in my head in rhythm with the horses gait. Bastard, arsehole, whoreson. Perhaps one day I shall have to control my “Sailor’s” mouth but not today, and I ride on towards the Seine.

“This is the last kiss, the last embrace you shall ever have from me Eleanor” Raymond whispers, “It seals our bargain do you understand me?”  
Eleanor nods, she dare not challenge him when he has that cold look in his eyes.  
“Live quietly Eleanor, you will want for nothing and if you should wish to marry then you shall have my blessing and a good dowry, this is the way it must be from now on.”

“Isabe” Raymond turns but she is not there “Where did she go?” he growls at Descoteaux 

“Towards the courtyard Sieur” and Raymond is on his way.

“Isabe” he yells out her name as he reaches the steps.

 ** _“Fuck. Raymond you are an idiot, a damned fool”_**  

The stable boy steps out “Sieur, Mam’selle Isabé has already left”  
Ignoring him, Raymond strides into the stables and selects Diable. He will be best, fast over shorter distances and sure footed over any terrain. He has the bridle on and is leading the huge beast out of the stalls by the time the boy returns with the saddle.

“No need for that” Raymond vaults up then crouches low over the horse’s neck as he rides out of the stable. This time there is no hesitation from the guards and they pull open the gates as he approaches.  
Once over the moat, he slowly reins the horse around in a full circle scanning the land through narrowed eyes.

“Sieur Raymond,” A voice rings out and he looks back to the gates. “Mam’selle looked to be riding towards the river”  
Raymond raises his hand in acknowledgement and with a slap of the reins to Diable the stallion springs forward and they hurtle down the road enveloped in a cloud of dust.  
Suddenly he catches sight of something pale and crumpled on the ground. Dismounting he reaches to retrieve it from the dusty road. A veil, Isabé’s no doubt, he breathes in the faint scent of roses which marks it as hers. Carefully he folds the cloth and tucks it inside his undershirt, where it warms against his skin.

“Christ I am behaving like some greensick boy” he laughs at himself but had he listened carefully he would have heard the ice around his heart start to shatter and slide away.

The riverside is not a sensible place to be for a woman on her own at this time of night, I have no desire to be mistaken for whore not even a high class one, and the  girls themselves would no doubt take great exception to a new face on their territory. I slow Athène to a walk, rein her up and slide from her back realising my mistake as soon as my feet hit the floor.  
As elegant as they are, my thin soled house shoes made of soft blue leather would not last the walk back to the Chateau, and walk I must for unless I find a mounting block of sorts then my skirts will hamper me getting back onto the horse.

“Shit, this is your fault Raymond de Merville. Fuck you, damn you to Hell, I hope the King does not let you come back, I hope he makes you marry a disease ridden half-wit with pock marks and missing teeth. I hope you rot in Paris.”

Athène shakes her head, glances sidewise and snickers at the crazed woman yelling at the sky, before resuming her cropping of the sweet grass. So I settle myself on the bank at the side of the road, draw my knees up to my chest and rest my chin on them as I consider my choices, needless to say they are few. The River Seine is to my right now, in front of me the town and the Cathédral and to my left the road back up to the Chateau and if I am honest with myself that is my only option.

Before I have chance to decide, the last person on earth I want to see is heading towards me at speed and there is nowhere I can hide. He reins the horse in beside me and dismounts on the wrong side.

“Isabé,” He stands only inches away from me his arms loose at his sides an expression of self-reproach fixed on his face. “Isabé ride back with me” Raymond reaches forward to take my hands but I snatch them back out of his reach.

“Oh you have such gall Sieur Raymond, such arrogance”  
I feel my anger growing and burning. “I’d sooner ride back with the Devil and his host than ride back with you, the company would be more to my liking”

“I’m not sure the Devil would share your view on that Isabé, he might find you too spirited for his taste”  
The smirk on his face provokes me into delivering a hard wallop across his cheek. His head jerks sideways a little but he makes no move towards me, simply closes his eyes for a moment before he speaks.

“You should have stayed Isabé, if you had, you would know that I have put Eleanor aside”

**_“Mother of God that is not what I expected to hear”_ **

“Indeed, so am I to understand that putting a Mistress aside requires you to embrace her and kiss the breath from her lungs?

He does not seek to defend himself further but reaches out to tuck a long strand of hair behind my ear, then trails his fingers slowly down my neck before he lets them rest lightly on my shoulder, I turn away from him but he steps closer behind me.

“I ask again, ride back with me Isabé.” Raymonds voice is lower now and I cannot ignore its effect on me.

Strong fingers brush against the back of my neck as he pushes my hair aside his warm mouth presses gently against the skin below my ear, followed by the smallest nip of his strong sharp teeth. I can’t help but shudder and a contented purr slips from my lips. There is nowhere else I can go, I am caught wedged between him and Athène.

“Help me up.” Gathering the reins up I place my left hand on her withers, my right on her back and bend my right leg back for him to grasp.

“I asked you to ride with me, not beside me Isabé” his right arm clamps tighter around my waist, his words are still soft, his breath still warm and he gives anther nip, harder this time to the shell of my ear. I hitch my breath again and he chuckles at my response.

I nod briefly, he shifts his horse round then lifts me up, hands me Athénes reins and vaults up behind me. The journey home is slower. Raymond settles his left arm around me and holds the reins in his right. Our bodies sway in unison with the movement of the horse, my back against his chest, the insides of his thighs pressed against the outside of mine.

“Damn, I lost my veil riding out here, have you not seen it Raymond?”

He evades the question and changes tack.

“Your pale hair is a glory to behold Isabé but your brows are dark, how so” 

I pull a face and shake my head. “It has always been I have no idea why, it’s just the way it is.”

Raymond pulls me tighter  flattening my back against him, without my noticing he switches the reins into his left hand but I certainly notice now, as he strokes the  long, strong fingers of his right hand along the inside of my thigh and I shiver, and shiver again as he kisses my ear and nips at the lobe then whispers in a low purr, which is most definitely _not_ the purr of a contented house cat.  
“Tell me Isabé, shall I be surprised If I find that your hair is also dark elsewhere hein?”  
The undisguised desire in his voice melts my bones, I feel my face start to burn and beneath my gown the flesh of my thigh is on fire from his touch, I gasp,  my words barely make it out of my mouth as I try to keep my voice as level as possible.

“That, depends upon your definition of the word surprise, But you will find out soon enough Sieur Raymond” 

“That will be my pleasure Isabé and yours too I hope.”

I don’t answer but he does not lift his hand from my thigh as we ride back in a sweet and contented silence.


	10. Chapter 10

The guards standing on the wall hoarding have seen us approaching the bridge, they yell down for the gates to be opened and we ride straight into the courtyard. As we draw to a halt at the steps leading to the hall, two stable boys run across to us, the smaller of the two takes the Mare’s reins from me and leads her away. I slide my right leg over Diable’s neck and wait as Raymond dismounts first then comes to stand in front of me, his arms raised, his hands ready to hold me.

His grasp is firm but rather than settling his hands to my waist as he sets me to the ground, he slides them upwards along my sides and I feel him brush his thumbs below the swell of my breasts.

 I shake my head at him and swat at his hands “You Sieur Raymond are a Devil”

His only reply is a rich laugh as he takes my hand and escorts me back into the Chateau.

“My hair doubtless looks like a rat’s nest.” I grin up at him

“It looks better than you might think considering” his smile is gentle and he halts for a moment to drop his lips briefly to mine whispering “Although some may wonder at the grass stains on your gown.”

“I squeak at him. ”You are teasing me Raymond, tell me you are teasing and it is only from the dew on the grass” I run my hand over the damp fabric

He leans back a little and sweeps his gaze down, letting it linger over my backside for a moment. Fighting a smile and biting hard at the inside of his mouth he shakes his head, eyes flashing with amusement.

 “Oh Mother of God, no”

“Sadly that Lady has not heard your plea Isabé,” he whispers “Everyone will just think I have fucked you in the open air.” Leaning closer he growls, “Perhaps one day hmm?” His eyes are dark and hot.

“Hold on to that dream if it makes you happy Sieur Raymond, ah well It is too late to care now hein?”

 “Too late indeed Chéri”

I lift up my chin, grip his fingers and walk into the hall with as much dignity as I can muster.

Eleanor is still there, I felt sure she would have retreated back to her chambers but no, she stands firm and watches as we walk into the hall. The Baron greets us first, his gaze sweeping over us.

“So, you have found our little runaway huh?” there is no hint of a smile, his eyes are hard and a little angry.

I tense, Raymond tightens his grip on my fingers and I am careful with my words.

“Monseigneur Baron, I have never run away from anything in my life and I do not intend to start now. Whatever comes I shall fight it, embrace it, or deal with as I see fit. I simply needed to clear my head”

My voice is steely but nonetheless he smiles and takes hold of my hands engulfing them in his own.

“A Lioness indeed,” and he brushes his dry lips against my cheek

I must look like some tavern tramp that Raymond has dragged in from the town, Eleanor stands back elegant, quiet and carefully observing me, Nicolette is still beside her clinging to her hand it is so late now the child should really be asleep her eyes are wide and overly bright.

“I must speak with Eleanor”

“Is that wise Isabé, would you not be better to leave things as they are, I’m sure Raymond would advise you to do so”

“Well it may not be wise Baron, not all courses of action are but it must be done” and so with my messy hair and stained dress I walk over to her. We observe the niceties and bow our heads to each other.

“Madame Forrestier you are to be congratulated, rarely have I met a woman as strong minded and unflinching as you.”

Oh yes she is brave, it takes courage to do what she has done. Her expression does not change and she regards me with a cool look as I continue.

“You are a force of nature Madame, a very force of nature but we each know where we stand and you will have no trouble from me.” I lean in a little closer and drop my voice so that hopefully only she can hear, adding “Provided you keep to your bargain, I have already warned you once that if you overstep that line I shall make you rue the day you were born.”

Her composure wavers just a little, her eyes fly wide and she bites briefly at her lower lip.

“Do not _ever_ cross me, I hope I make myself understood and even though we are not friends Eleanor, we should at least attempt to live quietly alongside each other. A brief nod is my answer

“Of course remember you are still in my employ, and should you choose to remain I still have need of a good needlewoman, Jehanne commends your work highly.”

“Very well Mam’selle Isabé” Is all Eleanor has to say and quietly another bargain is struck. What else could she do, for to disagree or turn me down would make her seem petty and stupid. That is the last thing Eleanor Forrestier wants.

Raymond must have heard some of what I have said to Eleanor and as I turn to him he smiles that strange lopsided little smile lifting one corner of his mouth.

“Monseigneur Baron until tomorrow, Raymond I bid you good night and safe journey” As I am about to leave I catch sight of Nicolette creeping forward, her eyes heavy her cheeks flushed. She is so tired she can barely set one foot in front of the other.

“Oh little one should you not be asleep?” she nods her head and screws her face into a pout “Yes, but Papa is going away tomorrow and I wanted to wait and say good night to him”

Raymond lifts her up, settles her against his chest and presses a tender kiss against her temple.

“Good night papa” she twines her arms around his neck, he kisses her hair. “To bed now Nicolette.”

He hands her gently to Eleanor, “Good night little bird, sleep well, Adieu” he strokes her hair with such gentleness.

But Nicolette does not answer, she is already asleep.

“Goodnight Madame” His voice is flat as he nods to Eleanor, it is her signal to leave.  

“Goodnight Ray...” she checks herself “Sieur Raymond” He nods then turns from her and does not even watch her walk away and       ` that is an end to it.

I look back at the Baron and he nods it is an assurance to me that he knows the tie with Eleanor has been severed for good. Raymond gestures Jehanne to come forwards and as he whispers to her I see her nod in agreement.

“Isabé, you have had a long and trying day you look tired” she cannot manage to keep a serene and ladylike expression on her face, instead the placid smile turns to a smirk.

“Yes my friend I am very tired” I bid good night to Raymond and the Baron and make my way up the stairs with Jehanne at my side she unhooks one of the lanterns to give us a little more light on our way

“What did he say to you Jehanne?”

“Who?”

“Raymond”

“Not much, except that you looked weary”

“Dealing with him all day is it a wonder, I somehow cannot help but feel some respect for Eleanor she is a strong minded woman”

“And you are not, you have already bested her so what does that say?”

“Jehanne, Eleanor was married before and she has to all intents been Raymond’s wife for 5 years, has borne him a child, knows how his mind works, I honestly don’t think he will put her aside so easily and I certainly don’t believe she will let him go without a fight no matter what she says.”

Jehanne bites her tongue. There is much she could say to Isabé to ease her mind, but has sworn not to and she will not break her word to Raymond.

“I don’t think you need to worry, I have the feeling that Raymond is a man to stick by his words, and”, she adds laughing at me “he is a handsome bastard who can barely keep his hands off you”

I am undressed down to my shift now and sit on the edge of my bed, swinging my feet. Jehanne holds up my gown wrinkling her nose at the stain.

“Well this will take some cleaning that’s for sure, what in God’s name have you been up to? She sniggers, leers and arches a brow at me.

“Nothing untoward I can assure you of that”, I snap back at her “I simply sat on the bank and the grass was damp” 

“Ahh,” Is her only response, she clearly doesn’t believe me, and I shall certainly not enlighten her regarding anything else that passed between Raymond and me. But as I stifle a giggle she stares at me with her eyes narrowed and a look which says “Humph you were up to something!”

“I wonder what marriage to Raymond will really bring, I hardly think he will allow me such license as he does now”

“Oh I don’t imagine he’ll try to change you much at all, I think he likes you exactly as you are”

Jehanne said it with such conviction that I stared at her and she would not hold my gaze.

“It has certainly been an eventful day my friend”

Her laugh is loud and rings around the room. “Certainly and not just for you I warrant, but it’s such a shame the wedding has to be delayed”

“I suppose so, but at least it gives more time to have the Chateau looking decent and with the work that needs to be done, I doubt I shall even notice Raymond has gone away.”

Why did her look say “Liar”?

Well if we are to have an early start then it’s best we get some sleep Isabé, every day from now until Sieur Raymond returns will see us well occupied. Now I shall have to let this gown dry and see how it is in the morning but I’m sure it will still need to be sponged”

As I slide into my bed, Jehanne pulls a truckle from beneath it, then sits on the edge of mine so that I can unlace her gown.

“Goodnight Isabé, sweet dreams of your handsome love.”

“I have no love” I snap back at her. “You should dream of yours the handsome Captain Descoteaux.

Jehanne smiles to herself, she knows my answer is too quick, my tone too sharp to be believed, I may have given away that I am warming just a little to Sieur Raymond de Merville.

The night is hot again, not oppressive but heavy and without the slightest breeze to help cool the air. Sleep is hard fought for, but not won, the cool linen sheets have been kicked off and pulled back time after time. Half asleep I pull my night gown from my damp skin and throw it across the room, yet still I cannot sleep. Strands of hair stick to my face and I feel the sweat under and between my breast, in the crooks of my elbows, the hollow of my throat.

Finally I rise from my bed and naked I pad around to the window in the hope that there might be some breeze, but nothing. The sky that never really grew dark is already beginning to lighten, I hear dogs barking and the first birds are already beginning to waken.

Jehanne stirs on her small bed and mumbles at me in her drowsy state.

“Go back to sleep Jehanne, I’m just restless with the heat and my mind is whirring with what needs to be done” I lied. I know that neither of those are the only causes of my restlessness for every time I close my eyes I see only one thing, Raymond’s face his eyes glittering blue and with a smile on his lips that could melt ice. That man is already under my skin, Christ and his Saints how did I allow that to happen?

I retrieve my night gown and for the sake of modesty I pull a light cloak over the top. With as little noise as I can manage I creak open the door into the passage way and make my way down into the hall, the wood and flagstones are warm under my feet, just as well for I have not bothered to put on my shoes. I don’t care that the floor is filthy I just want to be outside in the fresh air. The massive doors leading to the courtyard are shut and even though the wicket door is open, the air inside is fetid and a little rank. When I slip through the small door I am surprised at the activity and noise. Raymond, Geoffroy and their men are making ready to depart even at this early hour. It looks and sounds like chaos but it is far from that and as I watch I see that everything is ordered, it is like a dance with men and horses weaving in and out.

Mounts are being saddled as more are brought through from where they have been tethered to the pentice rails in the exercise yard at the rear of the stables. The Baron’s stables are large but not large enough to take 60 horses. As each horse is readied, the kitchen boys and kitchen maids under Fournier’s direction fill the saddle bags of each mount with just enough provisions for each man for two days. They will only sleep briefly and will do so wrapped in their own cloaks, speed will be the order of the day.

Raymond is at the far side of the courtyard, I would know him anywhere for he sits his horse as if he were glued to it. Geoffroy Maçon is beside him Descoteaux is nowhere to be seen but doubtless he has a great deal to do and Guillaume is just coming out from the stable. I step back a little to watch from the shadows under the arch way, the King’s men are mounted up and almost ready to depart. In a voice that is the voice of the battlefield Raymond shouts for Descoteaux to ready his own men, then leans to his left to hear what Maçon has to say,  it is causes him to turn in the saddle and stare straight at me. His face is grim as he reins the horse around and weaves between the ranks towards the chateau steps. There is no point in hiding he knows I am here.

“What are you doing here Isabé” His voice is clipped and cool, he looks annoyed and frowns at me.

“I could not sleep it is hot, I did not think you would be leaving before sunrise”

He gives a tight humourless laugh “We must leave as soon as we can”

He looks so weary, it is not likely that he has had any sleep, there would have been too much to do.

Wrapping my cloak tightly around me I step down onto the packed earth of the courtyard. The frown disappears and he shakes his head smiling.

“You have nothing on your feet you little idiot”

“I know, I just forgot”

“Here” he kicks his right foot out of the stirrup “put your foot in there”

I start to lift my right foot.

“No, your left foot, then you can turn to sit sidewise as I lift you up”

I do as I am told and he settles me between his arms, with his left leg braced against my backside so that I don’t slide too far backwards.

I am the one to break the silence.

“So, can you really not tell me why you are going to Paris, will the King really try to make you marry someone else and what other tasks does he have for you?

Raymond barks a laugh “Which question would you have me answer first Hmm?”

I shrug and as I wait for his answer I try to wrap my cloak around me again, he leans into me and whispers “I think trying to salvage your modesty may be a lost cause”

The cloak is all but dislodged my shift is hitched to my knees and the neck wide open, my hair is loose and my feet are bare. His eyes are not angry now but bright with amusement and I snag my lower lip between my teeth in an effort not to laugh back at him as he brushes strands of still damp hair back from my face. His hands are encased in mailed gauntlets but somehow his touch is still gentle.

He blows out a long sigh. “According to Geoffroy the King has someone definite in mind for me, but he won’t make me change my mind, as for the other business I can’t tell you.” I note that his jaw is set firm. “Isabé even if I knew the whole of it, which I do not I still could not tell you and nor would I.

“But Raymond,”

“No Isabé, stop, I will be plain with you there are some parts of my life you can never know about, it would not be safe for you, so please never ask again for I will not discuss it with you _ever._ Do I make myself plain?”

“Yes, Yes Raymond” I feel my heart grow cold and I am afraid for him.

“So” he tightens his arms around me. “Why did you really come down?”

“Truly just for air, it was stifling in my room”

“Are you sure Isabé,” warm lips press against my temple “Or is it that you could not let me leave without bidding me adieu?”

The gloved fingers of his right hand ghost across my collar bone, splay out and down over my left breast still his caress is gentle then my breath catches hard in my throat and I fail miserably to stop the mewl sliding from between my lips as he pinches my already hardening nipple between finger and thumb, then strokes his thumb back and forth across it. The sweet pain shoots straight down my body and almost forgotten sensations set a pulse throbbing between my thighs. Thank God my back is to the courtyard and I am shielded in part by Raymond.

“Stop Raymond I beg you.” and to my surprise he does, without question. Though as I turn my face to him he brushes his lips against mine then nuzzles against my jaw the roughness of his beard only adding to the sensations as he growls against my skin.

“I shall carry the sight, sound and the scent of you as you are now with me to Paris Sweet Isabé, but I must leave soon for Maçon is as eager to go as I am to stay.”

I nod, and suddenly I don’t want him to go but I know that he must ride into the courtyard of the The Palais de la Cité in two days’ time.

“I understand Raymond, safe journey God Keep you.”

“If I thought you meant that Isabé........”

I press my fingers gently against his lips and look straight into his eyes, almost loosing myself in their brilliant blue depths.

“I absolutely mean it Raymond, please I beg you be careful of what the King commands you to do, be careful of Geoffroy Maçon, come back safe Hein, I should not want to be a widow before I am a wife.”

“Do I take it then that you will miss me?”

“Of course, I shall miss you, I shall miss our arguments our fights, your foul temper and acid tongue.”

Now he throws back his head and roars with laughter.

“And I shall certainly miss the same about you.” Then softly, with his voice barely a whisper he adds.

“I have not been quite honest with you Isabé, after the words I spoke at the Manor you may disbelieve me and I would not blame you for that but I truly wish for you to be my wife. I don’t want some witless little brood mare or some chit who can’t think beyond her next new gown.”

“Raymond I promise you, I assure you I will be neither of those, though you may come to wish you had chosen someone more compliant, when I make your life hell.

“I can endure a little Hell Isabé, so long as you can give me a glimpse of Heaven too”

Warm lips and hot mouth against my ear, he lowers his voice yet again.

“I love you Isabé”

I can hardly believe my ears

He nuzzles at the skin of my neck then speaks again.

“One miserable December day, wet snow falling and a mad woman on her knees in the mud of the market place as she tried to protect an apprentice boy. Yes Isabé I loved you the first time I laid eyes on you.” pressing his lips to my hair he tightens his embrace.

I want to cry, tears fill my eyes and I bite at the inside of my mouth.

“God keep you Isabé, now off with you, go back to your bed and sleep, try not to worry”

He helps me rearrange my shift, pulls the cloak back around my shoulders then gently holds me as I dismount. I turn and looking up at him gently rest my hands on his strong hard thigh feeling the mail rings beneath the tabard.

“You asked me Raymond If I shall miss you, I think I shall”

His smile was wistful and I could see he seemed a little downcast for he had not heard what I’m sure he really wanted to hear. I had not told him I loved him but that will come perhaps.

I step back from the horse and climb the steps, with a nod he turns and rides to the head of his company. Banners are raised, helms settled on heads and the gates swing open. The King’s men ride out first and as Raymond reaches the gate he turns in his saddle and raises his arm to me, it is both a salutation and an adieu then he is gone.

Riding across the bridge Raymond briefly settles his right hand against his chest at the place where Isabé’s veil is folded against his skin and he smiles.


	11. Chapter 11

The courtyard is unbelievably quiet now, I had not realised just how much noise sixty men and horses could make. Birds are beginning their morning songs the stable lads are shovelling the horse shit away, Fournier and his kitchen staff have retreated. I stand for a moment enjoying the relative silence, closing my eyes I smile and remember the feel of Raymond’s warm breath ghosting on my skin. 

“There you are, I woke and wondered where in God’s name you were.” 

Jehanne comes up behind me.

“I needed fresh air but I have been speaking with Raymond, I was surprised that the men were almost ready to depart when I came down here”

“Damn if I had known they were leaving so early I could have come with you and wished Mathieu farewell.”

“You really do like Mathieu Descteaux don’t you Jehanne? 

She blushes, just a little.

“Yes, I mean no, I.........Oh Isabé I love him” 

“And what are Mathieu’s thoughts on this?

I managed to keep my face straight as I waited for the answer I knew she would give.

Jehanne bit her lip but her whole face lit up and as her words bubbled out in a breathless rush her eyes sparkled.

“He has asked me to marry him and said that when he returns from Paris he will seek Sieur Raymond’s permission and that I should ask yours. But he is worried because we have nowhere to stay, his home is the barracks.

 

I lay my hand on her arm and smile. “Calm, Jehanne be calm, of course you have my permission, I think your Captain is a good man and as my wedding gift to you I shall make sure that you have somewhere to live. What would you say to the room I have at present, would that suit?

She flings her arms around me hugging me tightly as her face flushes pink again, there is a wide smile on her lips.

“You will do that for  _me_  Isabé, really?”

“Of course I will, you have done much more for me in all the time we have known each other, now it is my turn to repay all your kindness.”

 Eyes bright and moist she grips my hands. 

“Jehanne you are my friend, my true friend, I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

Arms around each other we make our way upstairs and she gasps.

“Isabé, your feet” 

I follow Jehannes glance, look down at my now filthy feet and laugh. 

“Best I do not get back into bed just yet hmm?”

 

Once over the bridge the riders regroup and form up four abreast. Geoffrey reins up alongside Raymond and for some moments they ride side by side in silence, it is Geoffroy who speaks first.

“So that’s the saucy baggage you are hell bent on marrying?” 

Raymond looks straight ahead his expression blank and he shrugs his shoulders.

“I have to admit”, Geoffroy continues “she’s a pretty little thing, not beautiful mind you, at least not by the standards of the court but pleasing nonetheless.” 

Again, Raymond says nothing but sits relaxed in the saddle, swaying slightly in rhythm with the steady gait of his horse, the reins held lightly in his right hand, his left resting lightly on his thigh.

Geoffroy tries again to engage Raymond in conversation, while Raymond wished he would just fuck off and leave him with his own quiet thoughts..........of Isabé.

“Oh and I can see she has a temper, not everyone would have boldness enough to threaten to geld the Kings Envoy, brains too, though probably far too many to be good for her, do you not agree?” 

Raymond laughs now and if his friend could but see his eyes, he would notice a sparkle there and a softness to the usually bright blue.

“Yes Isabé has a temper, a fiery one, but better that than some frightened little mouse, she has brains certainly and I like that in a woman. He cannot disguise the affection in his voice. “As for her looks they are well suited to my taste and easy on my eye.” 

“Ah yes, you have always had a penchant for determined women my friend, have you not?” Smirking he continues. “Eleanor for example, I wonder you do not marry her, she would make you a perfect wife Raymond. She is used to your ways you miserable old bastard, she has borne your child, is beautiful, elegant and knows how to behave, whereas Isabé.....”

His voice cool now, Raymond cuts in.

“Isabé is her own woman and does things as she sees fit, I have no quarrel with that.”

“Well my friend that is obvious. The way she paraded herself in the courtyard this morning wearing next to nothing was dammed near scandalous and you allowed her to do it yet you walloped her for burning your mattress.

Raymond shrugs, but rises to Isabé’s defence.

“As usual you are talking shit Geoffroy, clearly your remembrance of it and mine are very different, in truth she was actually quite modestly dressed and had covered herself closely with a cloak”

He smiles to himself as he thinks of Isabé her tiny feet and small toes covered in the dust of the courtyard and his heart beats a little faster as remembers the feel of her against him, then his musings are rudely interrupted.

“What was the name of that pretty little piece who walked away from you all those years ago?”

Clearly irked, Raymond blows is breath out in a hard hiss and closes his eyes briefly, in that split second a face flashes before him, it is the face of Éloïse. Once she had been the love of his life, the woman he was to have married, the woman who betrayed him. Now she was long dead and crumbled to dust, as far as Raymond was concerned it was good riddance

He senses that he is being deliberately goaded, his soldiers’ instinct rarely lets him down and when he catches sight of the bland smile plastered across his friends face, the familiar warning prickle on the back of his neck confirms it and he has difficulty in keeping a check on his simmering temper.

Looking at the firm set of the jaw and the squaring of the shoulders Geoffrey knows that he has opened a wound and even though Raymond hasn’t quite risen to the bait, he is definitely angry. Most would men would think twice about pressing on, but Geoffroy is not most men and he did not rise to his high position at court without taking risks.

“I told you at the time that you should never mention it, you know that I only ever give one warning, so I beg you, for the good of your own health, do not ever speak of it again.” Raymond’s voice is like the rumble of distant thunder and he catches the slightly malevolent look in Geoffroy’s eye.

“Oh poor Raymond, 20 years ago and the wound still festers”

Reining his horse nearer now Raymond leans into Geoffroy and speaks quietly, they are so close their knees almost touch.

“Fuck you Maçon, fuck you to Hell and back, I am not sure of the game you think you’re playing you devious, conniving bastard but if you wish to take me on, then you had best be careful to play by the rules” There is no mistaking the anger now in that clipped voice, ice cold, dangerously calm and he sees some of the colour drains from Maçon’s face and it is a few moments before he can reply.

“Raymond I must tell you that I shall have to report to the King about Isabé, he has charged me with discovering exactly what kind of woman she is.”

“And of of course you must obey your King”

“ _Our_ King, Raymond _Our_ King and of course I must obey, as must we all”

Raymond sets his mouth into a hard line, his eyes are dark and glittering, but Geoffroy Maçon is not a man to give in easily.

“You know, the King has a remarkable woman in mind for you, a beautiful woman. A rich young widow, auburn hair, hazel eyes and a wonderful figure”

“Does she have a brain, can she hold an argument will she be able to talk of more than kitchen maids and needlework?”

Geoffroy tilts his head back and laughs heartily. “My friend does she need to have much of a brain, if all you are going to do is fuck her senseless and lay claim to her wealth and her lands?  Believe me there is plenty of both.”

“That makes no difference to me, I like my women to have a mind of their own, some spirit, backbone, and a sense of their own worth. Isabé will suit me well, very well indeed.

“Ah yes a lusty young woman to share your bed, the King will not wear it, you and I both know it”

Raymond feels his anger rising again. 

“I shall have the opportunity to speak to the King and I am sure that not only will he come to appreciate Isabé’s finer points, but that he will also approve my choice.”

“You are very sure of your ability to sway the King my friend, but in case you should fail and he insists you marry the beautiful Madame Jeanne Beauchêne. Tell me what do you think my chances would be with regard to Isabé?

He sees Raymond clench his free hand into a fist but notes also that he keeps his voice level as he replies.

“You would not survive the encounter _my friend,_ she would eat you up and spit you out in little pieces” “You would be no match for _My_  Isabé”

“Well, well, _your_ Isabé. It seems she has you has you firmly by the _couilles_. So tell me is she aware of that other little inconvenience?

Raymond whips his head around to stare straight at Geoffroy.

“What do you mean?”

“Guillaume Bouvier” 

Laughing he replies “Isabé is perfectly aware of Guillaumes affection for me, she is also aware that he is not my lover and why should she not know, he is after all her half-brother.” Raymond has the satisfaction of seeing Geoffroy’s jaw slacken and drop. “Again you are not so well informed my friend, either you’re slipping or your informant is, you should perhaps consider paying him or indeed her a little more. But as far as Isabé is concerned even if you had any chance, which of course you don’t, I would advise against it if you value your health.”

Geoffroy gives him a louring look, Raymond continues undeterred and aims for his mark.

“You do know who her guardian is I take it?”

“No, but why should I care, what does it matter”

“Oh yet another lapse by your agent, then let me enlighten you” Raymond smirks “Isabé Pelletier’s guardian, is Henri Bouvier, _The_ Henri Bouvier and although he is my closest friend and weakened now by his injuries I still would not wish to tangle with that man.”

“My God, do you mean...?”

“The very same, the Bastard of Constantinople”

“Weak, Gods Balls, he is the same age as you”

“His mind and health have suffered as you well know, but believe me, he would not allow you anywhere near Isabé he hates you with a passion.”

Geoffroy’s face blanches again.

“What was it he called you?” A soulless, insane, bloodthirsty, bastard who didn’t kill to live but lived to kill.  Henri was a hard man, but what he saw of you sickened him, he told me knew that Satan would never allow you into hell, for fear you would murder him and take the rule of it.”

“Constantinople was a fight like no other Raymond, have you forgotten that and Henri Bouvier was one of the worst.”

There was a moment of silence and Raymond shuddered. “It is something I shall always remember, but most of all I shall remember your part. Men fight, we kill each other with impunity, in the sure and certain knowledge that we will be absolved of our bloodlust and brutality because it is war and we fight in the name of our own Gods, for the honour of our Kings and not least because we want to live.” He shuddered, “Henri Bouvier only directed his ruthlessness and viciousness at warriors, unlike you.”

“They were all our enemies or have you forgotten?” Geoffroy spat out at him.

“Babes in arms you bastard, children, old women, young women, senile old men, I have seen you mow them down. It says something that a man like Henri could be so repulsed by your actions.” Raymond’s voice was flinty but as hardened to war as he was, he felt bile rise in his stomach at the remembrance of the vile and obscene abomination visited on those unfortunates by Maçon

 

“Remember Maçon the only reason you are alive is because I came between you and Hénri Bouvier. For what he saw you do to that girl, he was set to kill you, to tear out your insides whilst you were alive and screaming and I stopped him, I wonder if I made a wise choice that day you deranged bastard.”

“Raymond I don’t much like your tone, we are friends hein, let us stay that way”

“Friends, yes if you wish to think so but I know you have a watch on me,  you have an informant I’m not entirely sure who, but I will find out” His voice is measured, calm and quiet now but the menace behind it is unmistakeable and he shoots out his left hand. Geoffroy winces as strong powerful fingers dig savagely into his forearm.

“Just so that we are clear regarding my intentions, you may tell the King that I have given up Eleanor Forrestier, I have legitimised my daughter and I _will_  marry Isabé Pelletier. I will not be coerced, blackmailed or bludgeoned into marrying anyone else. Isabé suits me well and as there is no more to discuss now, perhaps you should tell me what it is the King really wants me to do because you do know that, I know you do.”

Geoffroy sighs, looks down at his hands and then at the ground as he teases an imaginary knot from his horse’s mane.

 “He needs your assassins’ skills, he needs you to rid him of someone who has become difficult and dangerous an embarrassment to him.

“Do you know who that is?”

“No, no I swear I do not know.”

“Well doubtless I shall discover soon enough”

They ride in silence for a little while then Raymond waves Descoteaux forward. Unable to bear Geoffroy’s company any longer he reins away from him, but it is a long ride to Paris and the veneer of their friendship is wearing exceedingly thin. Settling to the rhythm of Volucers gait he loses himself in his thoughts and they are mostly of Isabé.

 

Giggling like young girls Jehanne and I walk back to my room.

“Will you miss Raymond Isabé?”

“Well I told him I would, and honestly I think I shall, life might be very quiet without him for the next few days.”

“It will be peaceful for the rest of us that’s for sure, but shall miss the entertainment” She laughed and dodged away from me as I swatted at her arm.

“So Isabé, where do we start today?”

“Oh I think a visit to Fournier before the rest of the household wakes, then to the Master Mason”

“The Mason, I thought we were cleaning not rebuilding or did I miss something”

“No, you did not, I need scaffolding so that we can climb up and clean the walls and beams before we start on the floors”

“I’m sorry Isabé but you will not get me up there and if you have an ounce of sense you won’t climb up either. I doubt Raymond would approve”

“Ha and you think that bothers me, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him and even if he were here I should still do it”

Jehanne snorted, “Well he’ll know soon enough if he comes home to a body not a bride”

“Oh you are so cheerful Jehanne that must be why I like you so much.”

“I shouldn’t try it if I were you” she mumbled, but I heard her, because I was meant to.” At least not if you want to be spared another public walloping”

We solemnly eyed one another, then as her shoulders began to shake a laugh bubbled from her and I joined in.

“I can hardly begin to imagine what my life will be like from now on”

“It will be wonderful my friend, I’m sure of it, wonderful.”

I took hold of both her hands, they were warm in mine, “Before he left, he told me that he loves me, that he had fallen in love with me when he saw me in the market place”

“Ohhhh Isabé that is beautiful, soooo romantic” She flutters her eyelids and pretends to swoon.

“Romantic really?” “A man who says he falls in love with a woman on the day she is covered in mud, soaked to the skin, her hair in rats tails” Jehanne laughs even louder “Not only that he has just watched her as she smashed the Master Potter over the head with one of his most expensive pots because the oaf was beating an apprentice boy” I am laughing now.

“Sieur Raymond certainly has a sense of the absurd Jehanne but romance, I’m not sure, not sure at all that he even knows how to love”

“Oh I have seen the way he looks at you dear friend, his eyes never seem to leave you and believe me he is a man in love.”

“If you say so, now I should clean my filthy feet, wash, dress and then set to work”

I dig a plain old linen gown from the chest I brought from the Manor.

“What are you doing with that Isabé?” Jehanne squeaks and points at the faded gown.

“Well I have no intention of ruining one of the others whilst I’m cleaning out this pigsty.”

“But no one will expect you to do anything other than organise and supervise.”

My brows raised, I stop her chatter with a look. “You know me better than that Jehanne, I shall be there bucket and rag in hand”


	12. Chapter 12

My hair is piled on the top of my head and covered tightly with square of linen, the skirts of my gown are hitched up and tucked into my girdle and I make my way out into the courtyard looking like any other housemaid. The heat is rising as I make my way to the gates, only the wicket is open and as I draw near a young guard calls down from the hoarding above.

“Mornin’ Mam’selle Pelletier. You off out agin?

I shield my eyes and as I look up a boy salutes me, I had hoped that my simple clothes would be enough of a disguise, but he knows exactly who I am.

“Indeed I am”

“Ooooh so where you runnin’ off too then?” Before I can answer the Sergent cuts in.

“Shut up boy, Good mornin’ Mam’selle you’re abroad early can I ‘elp ye?”

“No thank you Sergent I am just on my way to speak with Barnabé Laurent, the Mason”

“Ahhhh reyt” he nods his head as if it is the most normal thing in the world “You know where ta go?”

“My thanks yes I do”

“So what’ you wantin’ ‘im for then?” the young lad pipes up.

“I said quiet boy” the Sargent snaps at him. I smile, here is a young soldier who hasn’t yet learned not to ask questions and God forbid he should ever ask Raymond to explain himself, he’d roast his arse. Then as I knew he would, the young lad dug himself into an even deeper hole.

“You given’ up burnin’ beds Mam’selle, you taken to wreckin’ the Chateau now?”

I am smiling, which unfortunately only encourages him the more and he lets loose with his next remark.

“Mind you I, should imagine between the two on yer on yer Weddin’ night you’ll damn near break the bloody place anyhow, I’ve seen the way….”

He doesn’t get out another word, the Sergent wallops him around the back of the head with the short stick he carries as a mark of his office.

“Guard room now! You’ve just earned yersel night duties fer the next month my lad. Maybe you’ll larn to keep yer mouth shut in future.”

“Sergent”, I shout up. “Please don’t be too harsh on him” 

“Beggin, yer pardon Mam’selle but he shouldn’t a spoken outta turn he’ll larn all the faster this way but if it pleases you I’ll make it two weeks”

I looked up giving him my best smile “I thought perhaps two or three days”

The old soldier thought hard and laughed down at me. “Mother of God I must be turnin’ soft ‘arted but very well, Sevn nights Mam’selle I can’t make it no less than that

“Ah well, whatever you decide Sergent” I nod up at him and the young lad mouths something at me which looks like “Thank you” before I pass through the wicket and on over the moat bridge to make my way into the outer ward. No one lies late abed in Summer, every daylight hour is put to good use and as I make my way along I am enveloped in the sounds and smells of all those services which are the beating heart of the Chateau. The workshops, barns and granaries, brew house, bake house and servants’ quarters.

Suddenly I stop dead and in spite of the warmth of the morning, a shiver runs through me as I look up at the solid, curtain wall soaring above. It is as if a weight presses on my heart, a sense of unease wraps its cold arms around me.

_**“What in Hells name are you doing Isabé? Go back to the Manor, live quietly there, leave Raymond to Eleanor, this is no place for you girl, how can you dare to think you can be Chatelaine here?”** _

For the first time I feel a rising panic at becoming Chatelaine and I feel my courage sliding away.

Jehanne and Ghislane gather their troops in the Hall. An army of women volunteers, dressed in workaday clothes mills around, not just housemaids but women of status too. All chattering and eager to help in showing the Chateau at its best for the wedding day of Raymond and his young bride.

“Oh he is so he is so handsome even with that scar, a bit of a miserable Bastard though” One housemaid laughs.

“And she is far too young for him, I’ll bet she’ll lead him a merry dance, knows her own mind that’s for sure.” adds another.

“Ahhh” One of the older ladies sighs “But have you seen how he looks at her, with his eyes full of passion and heat, I wish someone would look at me like that, she’ll keep him young.”

“And tired,” the woman standing next to Ghislane giggles. “They’ll not waste time climbing over each other just to get out of bed, don’t expect we’ll see much of ‘em for a while after the weddin’.”

“Aye it’ll be leave the food outside the door, knock and bugger off I’ll bet.”

Ghislane claps her hands and everyone quietens.

“Ladies there is much to do, but we have the advantage of a little more time, since Sieur Raymond has departed for Paris and,” she grins “has neglected to set a definite date.”

“All unoccupied chambers will be needed and we will begin with those, once cleaned they will be locked and left in readiness. The exception of course will be Sieur Raymond’s quarters.”

The two young housemaids who were involved in that episode giggle and snort then clap hands over their mouths as Ghislane looks sharply at them, but even she begins to smile.

“Then, we will turn our attentions to those rooms that are occupied”

“But why Madame Bérenger?”

“It’s an important day, the list of guests is growing and there will be Nobles attending, we cannot have the great and the good bedding down in the stables can we? So Quarters with more than one chamber will be furnished with extra beds. I want us to have made a start by the time Isabé returns, now off and gather up what you need.”

“You two” she points to the two young girls who had been giggling, then hands them a key drawn from the pouch hanging from her girdle, “Go and fetch fresh bed linens and coverlets and mind you come straight back”

“Yes Madame” they curtsey and scuttle away.

“Right” Jehanne steps towards Ghislane “Shall we continue with our own matter?” and she holds up her hand and waggling her fingers to show a gold ring set with a large brilliant blue stone on her middle finger. “I will wager this and enough of the finest linen to make you a gown, against…” she considers carefully “Against a barrel of your own best ale, a large barrel mind and a good cheese,”

“Of Course consider it done” Ghislane smiles her sweetest old lady smile “But don’t forget Jehanne my dear, all parts of the bet must be won” she holds up a bony finger to stress the terms. “Else the whole of it is void”

“Parts, I don’t recall you mentioning that” Jehanne is taken aback and looks a little wary.

“Oh forgive me did I not say, well it is of no matter. The wager is this, Eleanor must humble herself enough to help us clean the Chateau, and Raymond” Ghislane shoots Jehanne a lewd toothy grin and winks “Raymond must bed Isabé before the wedding”

Jehanne’s eyes pop wide open and her brows fly upwards, she actually looks a little scandalised, and snorts. “Ghislane, behave yourself, what are you saying?” she starts to ease the ring from her finger. “I may as well give you this now for there is little chance of Eleanor helping us and even less that Isabé will surrender to Raymond until after she stands before the priest.”

Ghislane leans closer to her.

“If that idiot man does not get her into his bed sooner rather than later, they will be walking around like two cats on hot bricks. Which might not be good for any of us knowing the tempers they both have. Besides he can barely keep his hands off her, you saw them on the walkway, Dear Lord I thought he was going to take her there and then.”

“I thought she was about to let him” Jehanne presses her lips into a tight line and holds in a laugh, then follows Ghislane’s gaze across to the far end of the hall where Eleanor has entered. She is dressed in an elegant watchet coloured gown and fashionably long girdle, from it hangs a red leather purse. As she draws near to them Jehanne notices that her shoes are of the same soft red leather, these are no workaday clothes. Trotting alongside her mother, Nicolette sings a song of her own making and her braids bob up and down in time to its rhythm.

“Good day to you Madame Forrestier, are you come to offer us your assistance?” It is impossible to miss the sarcasm that drips from Ghislane’s lips.    
A smug smile hovers over Eleanor’s mouth and she takes a moment before answering “No Madame Bérenger, I have other things to do” she waves an elegant, well-manicured hand at nothing in particular. “Also I have promised Nicolette that she may ride this morning.”

Jehanne snaps at her “I am sure Mam’selle Isabé made it clear that everyone should be available to help”

“That may be so, but Mam’selle Isabé is not here, I am not a housemaid and nor do I take instructions from them.” With her eyes narrowed and ignoring Jehannes furious expression she sweeps her up and down with an imperious look. “If you will excuse me ladies” She turns away and seems to glide to the main door.

“Bitch” Jehanne spits out. “If Isabé were, here there would be sparks flying”

“If Isabé were here, Eleanor would be wearing that damned smile on the other side of her face. Don’t fret Jehanne all will come right. So let’s forget that trollop and get back to the business in hand, our wager.” She grins and Jehanne asks.

“So all or nothing is that fair, what happens if only half the wager comes off?”

Ghislane thinks for a moment, “Alright then we shall split the difference, I will settle for the cloth”

“Then I will settle for the ale.”

Ghislane seals the bargain in an unladylike fashion by spitting on her palm and offering her hand to Jehanne who grasps it without hesitation.  
  
The urge to hitch my skirts higher and run away from the Chateau is growing by the second. It would not take long to make my way back to the Manor though it would be a useless undertaking, Henri and Blanche would have me back here double quick.

**_“You’re an idiot Isabé, what choice do you have?”No other man has offered for you it seems Raymond is the only one brave enough or stupid enough to take you on”_ **

I laugh to myself,  it is true, most of the young men I know are wary around me, I’m known as a feisty baggage, a firebrand and Raymond is certainly not stupid, so that only leaves brave or perhaps reckless. 

I raise a fist to the curtain wall “Damn you Raymond, Damn you to hell with your handsome face and wicked mouth. “The young lad walking past stares at me as if I am a madwoman.

He has said he loves me, yet has not courted me except in his own fashion. Neither does he know me but has simply decided I am the right woman for him. An old soldier set in his ways and drawing us into a May and December marriage. I fear we shall end up despising one another, and a handsome face will be of no recompense.

Sitting down heavily on the grass I draw my knees to my chest. But my mind plays games, I see his darkly handsome face, remember his arms about me, the look, and the gentle softness in his eyes when he whispered he loved me and I smile.

**_“Make the best of it girl, there are no escape routes.”_ **

 Scrambling to my feet I brush the dust and dried grass from my gown, paste a smile on my lips and set off to the Mason’s in the hope that I look as joyful as a young bride to be is meant to

Eleanor Forrestier has slipped away from the exercise yard for a few moments, she stands beside the pigeonnair gently cradling a bird in her hands.

“Fly straight, Fly swift” she drops a kiss to its head then releases it into the air. Tied to its leg a small wooden cylinder holding a message that only one man will understand. “Beware G+G.”

The Mason’s yard is much larger than I’d imagined and full of the rhythmic sounds of men splitting, dressing and working stone, on the far side large blocks are being winched onto a cart.

“Mind yerself Mam'selle”

I step quickly out of the way as a young lad leads two draught horses past me, pulling a cart that groans and creaks under the weight of blocks of unworked stone. Without slowing he guides it deftly through the gateway with inches to spare. 

Every man and boy is fully employed, they barely glance at me as I walk farther into the yard. Already the heat is building and it bounces off the huge lumps of pale stone.

“May I be of assistance Mam'selle?”

Spinning round I almost collide with a gangly but quite handsome young man with a shock of auburn curls and bright hazel eyes.

“Thank you, I am looking for Master Laurént, is he here this morning?”

“Yes Mam'selle he has not yet left for the Cathedral, I am his son Giles and may I ask your name?” He smiles broadly showing two rather large and slightly prominent front teeth.

“Isabé." 

He waits for more but I do not give it.

"Then this way please, we will find him at the tracing room.” I follow him across the dusty, noisy yard to a small wooden building, the door is wide open and the wooden boards have been taken down from all the windows. Behind it, is what must be the family home, neat and tidy with a newly thatched roof.

“Father, you have visitor,” Giles stands aside and lets me step into the cool of the small building.

“I am Barnabé Laurent Madame, how may I help you?“ 

A little taller and broader than Giles, he sports the same hazel eyes the same auburn hair as his son, although there is a little grey at the temples. Thrusting out one huge paw to me, I clasp it and my own hand almost completely disappears.

"Good Morning, I am Isabé and it is Mam'selle, at least for a little while longer." 

The same toothy smile as his son, spreads across his face and he nods "I have come to ask your help Master Laurent.”

“Then ask Mam'selle, I shall help you if I can, Giles go ask your Mother to fetch wine and water” From beneath the work bench he pulls out a stool for me and as I sit I cast my eyes around the neat and well-ordered work room. 

“So how can I help?”

I make my request and explain my need for scaffolding, Bérnard narrows his eyes and screws his mouth to one side as he considers what I have said.

“I am truly sorry Mam’selle but I really cannot see my way to helping you. It takes experienced men to put scaffolding up correctly and all mine are stretched to their limit, we are working every hour the Good Lord sends in this dry weather” His smile is rueful, his voice full of regret. 

Madame Laurént waddles into the room carrying the tray almost at arm’s length, she is petite, attractive and heavily pregnant, three young children hover at the doorway. As I stand to give up my seat and take the tray, her eyes pop wide, she almost looks as if she is about curtsey and I shake my head. 

Sipping at the wine that she has brought across, I try to hide my disappointment, though I am sure I am not hiding it well. 

“Truly Mam’selle if I could find a way to help you, I would. 

I hold out my hand to him “I understand and I’m sure that whatever we do the hall will still look better than it does now and doubtless the menfolk will notice little and care less if there is some dust and a few cobwebs.” 

Madame Laurént snorted in agreement.

“Thank you Madame, the wine was most welcome” 

“I will bid you good day Master Laurént and thank you for listening.” I flash him the best smile I can manage and he escorts me to the door watching as I cross the yard. 

“Bérnard, how could you refuse her?” His wife struggles to her feet. “Do you not realise who that is, it’s Mam’selle Pelletier, soon to be Madame de Merville”  
“Oh of course I do you silly woman, I knew as soon as she set foot in here.” He slips an arm around her and drops a kiss to the top of her head. “You need not fret, I am sure I can arrange something and I will speak with her tomorrow, that young woman has much to recommend her not least the fact that she did not dangle her rank and status under my nose to try and impress me or force me into helping her.”

He slaps his wife gently on her arse, “Now leave the tray and go and rest” she smiles at him presses her hand against her lower back and waddles her way back to the cottage.

As I race into the courtyard I catch sight of Eleanor Forrestier and run across to her.

“Why are you not in hall helping the others?” I demand keeping my voice low not wanting Nicolette to hear too much.

“Because I had other things to do” she glares at me “Also I promised Nicolette she could practice her riding, she wants to show her Father how well she is doing.”

“Then if you have finished, I should be obliged if you would help us”

I turn away but she grabs my arm and pulls me back, as I glare at her I see the expression on her face and it chills me. Cold, calculating and under it all a little fear.

“Isabé you and I must speak, there are things you need to know about Raymond and you need to know them now.”

I yank my arm away and snap at her. “I will learn what I need from Raymond himself, I do not need his whore to tell me”

Moving closer to me she leans in, her voice is low but commanding “You _**will**_ listen Isabé, we will go to your rooms where we can be quiet.”

My heart seems to falter in my chest and my stomach clenches, as a wave of unease washes over me.

“Very well” I sweep up the steps into the hall and Jehanne sees me and rushes over.

 “I have business to discuss with Madame Forrestier we will join you later” I turn to Eleanor, “I think it best to leave Nicolette in the care of these ladies.” She nods in agreement, crouches down to speak to her daughter and then as if she is the Chatelaine herself, makes her way to my chamber leaving me to follow.

“Isabé, child you look ill, what is wrong?” Ghislane takes my hand “What has that bitch been saying”

“I think it is more likely that what she is going to say will disturb me, I must go.” 

 And I race up the stairs behind Eleanor.

We sit across from one another “Isabé, please, you will likely need this” she hands me a cup of wine and as I drink she begins to speak.

“Raymond is in danger, someone in this household has been spying on him and sending information back to a contact in Paris.” 

“Do you know who is a danger to him?”

“Yes, but he does not wish me to tell you”

“That is ridiculous and stupid, why would they do that and how would you know?” I slap my hand on the table.

“Because he is a powerful man, with the ear of the King, he is his watchdog, spymaster, diplomat and assassin. To dispose of him would leave the way clear for someone else to take his place, someone who might not have the interest of King and country at heart.” Eleanor narrows her eyes and watches me closely before continuing. “I have known Raymond for much longer than the 5 years everyone suspects, I understand how he works and I know his enemies or at least most of them,  I was once in the same profession and now I suppose you could say I am in his employ.”

“Eleanor I know what you are trying to do and you are a fool if you think to scare me away from Raymond with this pathetic fucking story, you will never have him back so you may as well stop this now.” My voice is cold and calm, a sure sign that my temper is rising. “To say you were in the same profession, spying, killing, you must think I am addlebrained.”

“Oh there are many of us Isabé, let me persuade you that it is true” her voice is  calm but she smiles and sighs clasping her hands together.

“My husband died in a tavern brawl, a drunken argument over a dice game, it was all a charade, a play. He was a danger to Raymond, It was an easy death, as quiet and swift as I could make it”

It takes me a moment to realise what she has said. 

“You” I gasped, “you killed your husband?” my voice croaks out and the wine cup shakes in my hand.

“Women make excellent assassins Isabé. A tall, lean young man in plain clothing, riding a non-descript horse is barely noticed and soon forgotten. Even my own husband did not recognise me.”

Before I can speak, the point of a slim bladed knife is embedded into the table, it quivers with the force of the thrust and I stare open mouthed. I did not even see where it came from.

“It was him or Raymond, my instructions were to protect Raymond at any cost” her tone is calm and business-like.

My heart pounds so hard that I can hear it in my ears, I have no words but I have so many questions. Eleanor reaches across the table and takes hold of my hands.

“Raymond will never tell you everything about his life, there are secrets he must keep. But he has permitted me to tell you a little, I have never questioned his orders and I never will. I know this is hard for you to understand Isabé.”

When I look the knife is no longer there, I did not see her take it and I have no idea where she has hidden it.

Eleanor gets up to take her leave but halts in the doorway for a moment.

“Isabé believe me when I say Raymond is danger. I have sent a message to him, you had best pray to God and pray damned hard that my warning reaches him in time. Now I shall go and change my clothes and meet you in hall”

“How do you know where to reach him?”

She shakes her head. “It is my profession Isabé, amongst others” and a brief smile flickers on her lips.

  
It seems that for good or ill,  Eleanor Forrestier will forever be part of our lives.

 

 


	13. Chapter 13

I slump forward, laying my cheek against the cool wood of the table and wrap my arms over my head, shock, fear, anger, I really don’t know what I feel. Eleanor Forrestier and I may never be true friends but we are no longer enemies I am sure of that, bound as we are by a common cause; Raymond, and our need to keep him safe and alive.

“ ** _It’s no use sitting here Isabé, shake yourself girl”_**

I retie my headdress adjust my skirts and I am ready to face the world; at the bottom of the steps I almost collide with Jehanne.

She cocks her head to one side. “Mon Dieu, you look so pale”

“Don’t worry I am perfectly well.”

Jehanne frowns, “Liar, what has that whoring bitch been saying to you, what has she done?

I give what I know is a weak smile. “Nothing.”

“Oh so you are not going to tell your friend” She is clearly affronted and snaps at me because I won’t enlighten her with what passed between Eleanor and me, but I can’t, I daren’t, the fewer people who know, the better.

“Jehanne please listen to me, Eleanor and I,” Hesitating I search for the words, “Well, I think I can say we understand each other better.”

Jehanne scowls at me, watches me through narrowed eyes and snorts “If that bloody bitch threatened you, I’ll have her eyes.”

I take in a deep breath and blow it out slowly knowing that if Jehanne even tried to challenge Eleanor, she would come off the worse by far

“No. Dear Jahanne no, she has only told me some truths and I have said the same to her, as I say we understand each other.”

I broaden my smile, though I can see by her eyes Jehanne is not persuaded that I am telling the whole truth.

“Isabé I know.....”

“Jehanne, leave it be.” As I cut her off, my voice is harsher than I intend, she shrinks back a little and answers with a curt “As you wish,” her face settles into a stony mask and she steps away from me. I feel my heart sink, I would love nothing more than to tell her but I can’t risk anyone knowing what has passed between Eleanor and me.

Nicolette is sitting on the floor next to Ghislane and is happily singing to herself as she plays with a rag and a bucket of water, not concerned in the least that her dress is already wet.

“Are you going to help us sweetheart?” I crouch down next to her.

“I think so, Mama said I might”

“That’s kind of you and where is Mama?”

“Oh she’s has gone to change her clothes.”

“Quite right, it would not do to dirty that pretty gown huh, are you not changing?” I nod at her dress and she giggles as she looks down.

“Oh this is an old dress, Mama said not to wear a pretty one for riding Belle” She cocks her head at me. “Papa gave me Belle, she is very pretty and he said a pretty girl should have a pretty horse.”

“He is right Ma Petite so she should.”

 “I do love my Papa.”

I feel my throat tighten as her hear her speak so of Raymond, but I have seen him with her and she is his life.

As I look up, Eleanor is half way down the hall and I understand now how she could easily disguise herself. Her hair is completely hidden under the linen cloth, she wears a workaday dress and the dull brown wool is faded in places, it’s hitched up at one side on her feet she wears a pair of old shoes which are scuffed, scratched and tied with mismatched laces. This simple change of clothing has rendered her almost unrecognisable.

We hold each other’s gaze over Nicolette’s head and our look is one of complete understanding. Eleanor gives a quick nod and I return it.

Jehanne does not fail to notice the exchange.

I stand and give them the bad news.

“There is to be no scaffolding, sadly Master Laurént’s men are all too busy and he has no one who can be spared to help us, so we shall have to do the best we can and ignore the dust and cobwebs we cannot reach.”

“Damn,” Ghislane spits out, “Ah well as you say we shall do what we can, I have already set most of the women to work on the empty rooms and those who live in the Chateau have given permission for us to enter their chambers. I thought perhaps we could begin on those.”

“Thank you Ghislane, Eleanor and Nicolette will work with you, Jehanne you and I will begin with my quarters and then move to the Baron’s.” She frowns at me.

“As you please” her answer is abrupt and waspish.

Ghislane looks across sharply her brows raised in a question, I feel it is going to be a very long day.

We are just about leave the hall when the Baron comes stomping in with his rolling uneven gait, his cane tap, tapping as he walks. He looks me up and down and I’m not entirely sure whether he is amused or affronted by my housemaid’s garb.

“Isabé, a moment if you please.” There is still the hint of the country accent of his youth when he speaks, I feel my shoulders drop and I whisper under my breath. “Oh for God’s sake what now?”

 “So, you have already begun?”

“Monseigneur Baron, even though the only day I have been given for my wedding is Midsummer’s day, I think you will agree with me that the likelihood of that is slim, I should still like to begin making the Chateau presentable. Of course as Raymond has been a little forgetful about the date, perhaps he is no longer sure that he wants me as his wife.” He is quick to catch my hesitant tone.

“I think you are wide of the mark there Isabé, but if it were me I would not have wasted any time, I should have hauled you straight to the Cathedral. You would have been, wedded and bedded the day you arrived. His words come out as a laugh and he adds, **“Mon fils est un homme intelligent, mais parfois il peut être un putain d'idiot.”

There is a wicked twinkle in his eyes and then just as quickly he becomes serious, a frown settles on his face and he looks straight at me. “Isabé, you have a visitor, someone wishes to speak with you.” He nods and his glance moves from me, to some point behind my right shoulder. When I look behind me I see Blanche Bouvier standing beneath the archway of the great doors.

 

“Did you invite **_that woman_** here?”

The Baron does not like to be challenged and his voice is low and clipped.

“Be still Isabé, yes she is here at my invitation and you forget yourself sometimes, I believe I cautioned you not to press me. I do not need your permission to do as I wish here, you are not Chatelaine yet. I will however beg _your_ forgiveness for revealing the truth to you before Blanche but I was so sure she would have told you.”

I can’t decide if what he says is the truth or something merely to mollify me and I am chastised and petitioned in one breath.

“I will not speak with her.” I try to step past him to make for the stairs but he takes hold of my arm and grips hard.

I still have my back towards Blanche, he takes hold of my hands now and leans forward to kiss my cheek.

“Humour me Isabé, go and make your peace with Blanche.”

I refuse to look at him and instead look down at our clasped hands.

He glances across at the others “Ladies you are dismissed, go about your business” he snaps at them but they look to me for their permission to leave.

“ ** _Not Chatelaine yet hein?”_** I bite the inside my mouth to stop a smile forming.

“You go" I nod "I won’t be long” I smile as the three women take their order from me and make their way up the stairs, Jehanne pulling faces and glaring at Eleanor’s back whilst Nicolette plays a step game jumping up, then down and takes her own sweet time.

“Do not behave like a child Isabé”, he rumbles at me. “She is still the same woman who raised you, fed, clothed and protected you. She has wiped away your tears and wiped your arse and made sure you were never named a bastard.”

I can feel the tension in my jaw as I speak through gritted teeth.

“Do you command me Monseigneur?”

His own mouth quirks up in a half smile.

“No Isabé," he purses his lips, "let us just say it is a request, I have put my chamber at your disposal, where you and Blanche may sit quietly and reconcile yourselves” It is said with such conviction, he clearly does not doubt that we will resolve this.

Shaking my head and stepping close into the Baron I square up to him.

“No, If Blanche wishes to speak with me then she may do so here, I have nothing to hide no matter that she might.”

“Sheath your claws girl, don't hiss at me like a cat whose tail has been trodden on.” He growls out his words. “I can see that my son will need to rein you in Isabé”

I huff and shoot him a look of pure disdain. “He has already tried and failed.”

Cupping his hand firmly beneath my chin the Baron whispers “Have you ever seen my son “gentle” a testy young filly Isabé?” he smiles again, wider this time. “He uses kindness and quietness and it is most effective, the animal does not even know it has been bested but it knows who it's master is.” I swallow, hard, but will not give quarter. We glare at each other, I wonder who will give in first, it is not me but the Baron knows how to fight and knows that a battle may need to be sacrificed in order to win the war.

He escorts me to where Blanche waits, just inside the great doors. She is clothed in a rich tawny coloured gown and seems so serene as she stands bathed in the soft morning light with the dust motes dancing around her.

I am so angry that I cannot bring myself to show her any respect, not even enough to call her Aunt let alone Mother. “Blanche.”

The slightest flinch, the merest tremble of her voice are all that give away her nervousness.

“Isabé, I have come to speak with you.”

 

“Then speak.”

Ignoring the tears forming in her eyes. I turn on my heel and stride away from her towards a table at the far side of the hall and she follows me.

As we each wait for the other to speak, the silence between us thickens, I can bear it no longer.

“Who is my father?”

“I cannot tell you Isabé, it would break a confidence a trust and he wishes to tell you himself when he feels the time is right.”

“Oh how very convenient, of course the time may never be right and so he will never need to admit to siring me, never need to explain me away to his wife.”

“He is not married” Eleanor’s voice is sharp

“Then he had no reason to leave you with a child in your belly”

“Isabé” her voice grows softer, “He did not know, the youngest of four sons he was packed off to the church. I discovered later he was ordained and then laicised,” Blanche smiles, a sad little smile “I understand he was never quite obedient enough or committed enough and was forever at odds with his superiors. I think the only reason they let him remain for so long was because he was so good as Almoner. Eventually he came back to Rouen and he is here still.”

“What of you?”

“Oh I was already in the Bouvier household, as Maid and companion to Henri’s widowed Mother.” She cocks her head to one side. “Agnès Bouvier was an opinionated, feisty woman not unlike you Isabé, although she was capable of showing compassion and accepting weakness in others.”

That cut, and I gasped in my breath. “Oh yes daughter, you can be hard and unforgiving, sometimes you judge people too harshly and before you understand their circumstances.”

My throat tightens and even if I could speak I would not dare deny what Blanche has said, for she is right. I hang my head and study my fingers as I twist and turn them in my lap.

**_“Give ground Isabé, give ground.”_ **

“Would you like some wine?” I hesitate then add “Mother.”

Blanche has such a beautiful smile. “That would be most welcome child.”

Rising from my seat I give back my own hesitant smile, “I think we will be more comfortable in my chamber.”

I know this is not going to be easy for either of us but the Baron is right and so was Raymond. I owe her the chance to tell me the story and to tell me in private. I whisper to the serving boy standing at the foot of the stairs to fetch wine and honey cakes and side by side Blanche and I make our way to my chamber.

The Baron smiles to himself and stomps his way to the kitchens to speak with Fournier

 

Seven hours in the saddle but at a painfully slow pace. No matter that the men and their mounts are tough and fit, Raymond will not permit his horses to be ridden hard in the already searing heat, not even for the King.

“What the hell are you playing at, we _must_ make better time Raymond, I cannot allow you to dawdle along like an old woman on a mule, the King will be displeased if we do not reach Paris by Sunday”

 “ _You_ cannot allow it Maçon?” Raymond glowers across at him jaw set, eyebrows arched and a look on his face that says “Fuck you”. “It may serve you well to remember this one small point my friend, you may think you carry the King’s authority, but I outrank you in every way, do not cross me.”

Raymond’s voice is silky soft but the look he shoots, is feral and wisely Geoffroy backs down.

They pass through the town of Les Andelys and head up the rise to Chateau Gaillard.

They are clearly expected and pass straight through into the upper ward. Stable boys and servants run out from all directions and bellowing above all the noise Raymond hears a familiar voice.

"As I live and breathe, are you still walking this earth you miserable bastard?

Looking across the ward he catches sight of a tall, rangy individual loping towards him. A balding head, browned by the sun and fringed with wisps of grey hair bobs above the throng of servants.

“I thought Satan would have claimed you as his own long ago de Merville"

"Well he's hardly likely to take me before you, you ugly old sod." Raymond removes his helmet swings his right leg over the neck of his horse and slides down to greet his old friend.

"Albert, it is good to see you looking so well"

They embrace and slap each other's backs, these sometime Brothers-in-Arms.

"You seem to be wearing well Raymond, a little older, but you have a good head of hair and not much greyer I notice."

Raymond laughs, "Whereas you my friend may as well shave off the little you have."

Geoffroy, sidles up to them, a scowl on his face.

"I need food and water for the men" Raymond glances at Albert and raises his left eyebrow.

I don't doubt we shall be treated well Maçon, Albert will see to it"

"Indeed your men and horses will be well looked after and you are most welcome to join with Sieur Raymond and me in a jug of wine, one of the lads will tell you where to find us" He nods at Geoffroy then leads Raymond into the Chateau.

"So my friend you are to be married I hear, she must be some woman to have caught your interest" He nods and stops short of mentioning Eleanor, when he catches the warning look  on Raymond's face." 

Raymond hesitates slightly as he makes a great show of drawing off his gloves and dropping them into his upturned helmet "I find her so, she suits me well"

Albert notices the sparkle and warmth in those usually cool eyes. "Well go fuck the Devil for Raymond de Merville is in love, I never thought I would live to see the day." he hands Raymond a cup of wine.

“What of you Albert, is life good?”

With a face wreathed in smiles, Albert nods. “Very good indeed, my friend, married myself as you know and another babe due.”

“Another, how many now Albert?”

“This will be number four I have three sons now.” He gives a wistful smile. “A girl would be a blessing and Jeanne would be so happy but it will be whatever God wills.”

“Four?” Raymond punches him on the arm “You randy old bugger, well here’s to a safe outcome and the blessing of a daughter”

“To you Raymond and to your future bride, may God smile on you both."  He raises his cup in a toast. "Now, to business" Albert lifts the lid of a casket and hands over a small wooden cylinder, it is sealed with a daub of wax imprinted with an  "E".  Raymond twists the the two sections to break the seal apart and pulls out the message, Albert watches closely as Raymond's expression changes from curiosity to contempt, his upper lip curling in a sneer.

"Is it as you expected?"

"Sadly, yes"

Raymond tucks the message inside his boot. " I must reply, but don't send it until I have left here" Snatching a small scrap of parchment from the casket he writes in cramped letters **_"Understood"_** then rolls the paper, slots it into the cylinder and reseals it.

 

 “You did not join us for wine Geoffroy” They are moving again and the heat of the day is becoming oppressive.

“I had some business to attend to in the town”

“Was she pretty?” Raymond laughs trying to ease a growing tension between the two of them.

“I suppose so, but it wasn’t her face I was interested in and she fucked well, she was certainly worth the coin I spent.

He was lying and Raymond knew it, a cold shiver swept over him, for there was a great deal of road to cover between here and Paris

The Chateau of La Roche Guyon is a grim edifice which seems to grow out of the very rock on which it is perched. The order is given to make their way down towards the river to rest until early morning.  No one will challenge them, for they are on the kings business and no one will dare to interfere. Saddles, packs and bedrolls are removed from the horses, each man lays his belongings down at his chosen spot. Horses are watered and allowed to graze for a while then tethered each near to its own rider and the men either settle to eat, or wander down to the river.

Raymond and Geoffrey set themselves a little apart from their men and from each other, the tension between them is growing and Geoffroy seems full of a nervous energy that makes him too bright, too brittle and Raymond is wary

As Guillaume helps him remove his armour and mail Raymond heaves a sigh of relief. He has no desire to feel the bastard metal bite into his flesh as he sleeps. His tunic is rumpled grubby and sweat stained he stinks, his damp hair is flattened down to his scalp.

“ ** _Isabé would either laugh or run like hell if she could see me, perhaps I really am too old for this shit. Philip you bastard, this had better be the last time!”_**

The company sit around playing dice and the words of a bawdy song float in and out of the chatter and raucous laughter. Like any hardened soldier, Raymond snatches food and sleep whenever the opportunity arises. He sits alone and eats sparingly from the rations Fournier has provided, although he is not so abstemious with the wine and by the time he settles down to stretch out his long frame the skin is almost empty. He yawns, folds his arms up behind his head and within minutes he’s asleep.

Although the breeze floating up from the river is warm, it feels deliciously cool against Raymond’s skin. Smiling he drops his chin and presses a soft kiss to the top of Isabé’s head tightening his embrace just a little more. She is pressed up against him, her left hand resting lightly on his chest just at that point where his heart beats and her left leg is hitched up slung across his hips. His eyelids droop and he groans a little, for he is sure he can still feel the wetness of her, of both of them on the creamy soft skin at the inside of her thigh.

Raymond moves slightly and Isabé stirs against him but she does not waken, he is glad for he has no desire to disturb her but simply and selfishly to let her lie against him as he cradles her in his arms. Her warm breath ghosts over his skin and as her body moulds even more to his he sighs with pleasure, closes his eyes again and remembers how it felt to be inside her, enveloped so tightly in her heat and wetness, the touch of his mouth on hers, the softness of her breasts, his tongue teasing her until she shook and screamed out his name somewhere amongst the profanities that spilled from her lips. His throat tightens as he remembers her gentleness and lightness of touch, her trembling mouth and the tears that threatened to fall as she traced and kissed the scars on his body. He adores her and in turn he feels loved, knows he is loved for Isabé has whispered the words he longed to hear

**”Mon Cheri Raymond je t'aime de tout mon Coeur.”

Feeling her stir against him he “hushes” her with soft sounds as his fingers gently stroke down her arm. The movement soothes him too and wrapped together they sleep in the early warmth of the day.

Raymond wakes with a jolt, noises in the background, the sound of men and horses moving, jangling harness and cursing soldiers. He looks down at himself and swears under his breath.

“Shit” For he realises there is no Isabé, his seed is spent but in his own hand and he has never felt as lonely as in that moment, to be alone is a choice, but he feels completely desolate. Sitting up his head throbs, pain shoots across his back and he winces. Throwing off his clothes he heads down to the water and knows he is being watched, knows it is Guillaume. It should be a comforting that his Squire is looking out for him, but Raymond feels the hairs at the back of his neck rise and a tingle of unease sweeps over his skin.

The moment Raymond steps into the water Guillaume leaves his hiding place and kneels down among his Lord’s belongings. With deft fingers he swiftly goes through the packs and bags being careful to replace each item exactly where it should be, for he must leave no trace. Cursing he sets everything back, there has been nothing for him to find and as he sees Raymond come out of the water Guillaume leaves as quickly and quietly as he came.

Standing beside his pack Raymond knows that it has been searched, at first glance it seems the culprit has been clever and careful but not careful enough, for his sword is not exactly as he had left it. In their haste to leave, whoever it was had kicked the dry earth over the scabbard, It could only have been one person and Raymonds jaw tenses as his anger rises.

“ ** _Be calm Raymond, haste and temper will do no good”_**

“What did you find?”

“Nothing Sieur, absolutely nothing.

Fingers grab at the front of Guillaumes tabard and yank him forward.

“You had best not be lying to me boy.”

“I swear, I swear on my Mother’s life there was nothing” Guillaume’s voice stays firm.

“You know what you must do, everything is to be reported back to me.”

“I understand, Sieur,”

“Good boy” the words are breathed out in a low, soft voice and Guillaume shivers as pale fingers stroke down his cheek, he closes his eyes briefly and when he opens them he is alone.

 

**My son is an intelligent man, but sometimes he can be a fucking idiot.

**My darling Raymond I love you with all my heart

 


	14. Chapter 14

Jehanne is grumpy, I can tell it just from the look on her face and she frowns at me as I walk past her to escort Blanche from the Chateau.

As Blanche turns to say goodbye she leans in and drops a kiss to my cheek, I stiffen slightly for I am not completely reconciled with her and she knows it.

“Shall I see you on Sunday Isabé?”

“I expect so, I will be at Mass with the Baron”

“When does Raymond return?”

I am losing patience, I can’t stand this forced, polite conversation, I don’t like myself for it but the wound of her not telling me who she really is has cut me deep.

“I have no idea”, I shrug “it will doubtless be when the King gives him leave to come home” My voice is flat and clipped.

Blanche’s smile never drops, her voice never wavers and she fixes a smile on her face. “I am sure he will be home as soon as he can Isabé.” She takes hold of my hands but I pull them away after only a brief moment.

“I must go, there is much to do and we have spent a long time talking with each other, Jehanne is waiting.”

She is being dismissed by her own daughter but she holds herself in check and gives little away, though her eyes are a little glassy.

“I understand my dear, I won’t keep you any longer”

She nods “Until Sunday then” and makes her way down to the steps, to where Julot waits for her to help her up into the saddle. Does she look up at me and wave, I have no idea for I am already back in the hall.

“You, look like shit Isabé” Jehanne stands hands on hips and stares at me with a sour look on her face.

“Hmmph, and you have a face like an Alaunt chewing a wasp.” I spit back at her.

Laughing she links her arm through mine and pulls me against her side “It will all come right about you know she is the same woman that raised you, what difference does it make what name she goes by she has always loved you.”

“You have clearly been talking to the Baron, he said almost the same”

“He is right, you should reconcile yourself, for fear it eats away at you; so are you going to tell me about it or not”

“This is what I like about you Jehanne” I waggle a finger at her. “Straight to the point, as always you just jump in with your big feet and ask”

“I see no virtue in waiting to hear a third hand tale” she winks “which would doubtless be wrong”

“Well if you really want to know I will tell you as we clean, it’s nothing very interesting really”

We make for the chamber next to mine, it looks like it has been used as a storage room for years and before we can begin every stick of furniture, every pot, chest and tapestry needs to be hauled into the corridor. It is so damned hot that we are sweating and lathered like draught horses in minutes.

“So who is your father Isabé” Jehanne’s voice is bright with excitement and curiosity.

“Oh that is the one thing Blanche was careful not to tell me, no matter how often I asked she evaded or even flatly refused to tell me”

“But for God’s sake why would she not tell you?

“All she said was that he had made her promise not to and he would tell me himself when he felt the time was right” I sling a chipped jug out onto an old mattress, my aim is good but there was too much force, it bounces onto the floor and shatters. I cannot even be bothered to swear, just roll my eyes and hiss breath out in a long sigh.

“So I may never know” I could feel the tears ready to fall and I dash them away with the back of my hand.

Without another word I start to push at one of three remaining chests, trying to move it towards the door, Jehanne shakes her head at me and comes to help.  Grunting and groaning we shove and heave them into the corridor.

“Isabé, sit down for a moment, sit and talk with me” I lean back against the cool wall and let myself slide down to the floor. Jehanne follows suit and sits close, our arms touch. For a moment I just hug my knees to my chest and then it all spills out.

Their meeting in ’87, a pretty farmer’s daughter and the youngest son of a wealthy official. A love affair cut short when, as was the way, he was packed off to a life of celibacy, obedience and prayer at Jumièges Abbey. His swift move from postulant to Junior and then his appointment as Cellarer was remarkable, no doubt his family’s generous gifts to the Abbey of both land and money eased his path and gave the Abbot reason to keep him. Though by all accounts he was a handful and often kicked against the goads of authority.

I give an unladylike sniff and let loose a hiccoughing laugh.

Jehanne hugs me closer, “So he was troublesome and rebellious” She smirks at me.

“Hmmm, it seems he was always at odds with his superiors” I grin back at her, “He  didn’t stay a Black Monk for too long.”

“Then you must be your father’s daughter,  I can see where both your obstinacy and sense of justice come from!”

She gives a false yelp and feigns hurt, as I smack her arm but she is laughing at me and of course she is right.

I continue the tale of how he came back to Rouen to find that Blanche had left to go and stay with her Sister and Brother in Law, Marielle and Thomas Pelletier. That he had no time to search for her as he had taken service with the Baron and joined the ranks of his company, all of them seemingly  hell bent on getting themselves killed in a Holy War. Already under orders to leave the soldiers were ready to move out, he had no option but to go.

“But surely he was not a fighter, not a soldier” Jehanne frowns at me.

“Oh, it seems he never gave up his training and practiced in secret but of course he was found out, another mark against him.”

I manage a weak smile, then shiver a little and squeeze at Jehanne’s hand.

“Isabé, please, if you don’t wish to tell me more then don’t, I know I am a nosy baggage but I have no wish to see you in distress.”

Burning tears prick my eyes and now I begin to feel some remorse for how I have behaved to Blanche. “It did not end well Jehanne.”

I lean into my friend as she slides her arm about my shoulders.

“Marielle was overjoyed, she too was expecting their first child and was glad of the help, it did not matter to her that Blanche was not married and it seemed she was settled and safe. The birth was hard and the child survived for only a few hours but Thomas named her Ève, and at least she was baptized, but Marielle was so very weak and only lived for a few more days. Blanche is sure that she gave up on life, that she died of a broken heart as much as much as the fever.”

The tears start again, I let them fall fast and hot as I remember the pain and heartache of losing my own child so early, that poor scrap of life.  Jehanne understands for she was there, my dearest friend, who helped me, a naive girl who did not really know what was happening.

I think on how harrowing it must be, to carry a Child all that time only to see it lose the fight to survive and I wonder if there is there a God?

I push on, stuttering out my words with a ragged, uneven breath, telling of how Thomas was good to us at first, letting us stay on after I was born and that he doted on me until something evil worked into his brain and he sought solace in wine, more so after the anniversary of their deaths. To him Blanche was responsible, she had not done enough, had not been vigilant enough. He called her a whore and a slut and wondered how he could have allowed such a lecherous bitch take care of his beloved Marielle.”

Jehanne gasps in her breath. “The Arsehole, the bastard” what was he thinking?” She hisses between her teeth then strokes at my hair and makes soothing noises. “

 “We could not stay, not when he started to become free with his fists or his belt. Blanche was in fear for our safety and the only place she could think to go was Madame Bouvier’s. One night when Thomas passed out again from too much wine, she bundled up only what she could carry, though she made sure to take some coin and he was so drunk he did not even realise she was rifling through the coin pouch on his belt.”

“She should have taken the whole purse from that shit”

I Shake my head at her,” No she would not do that she took only what she felt was her due”

 “Remember” I rest my cheek atop my knees and look across at her. “His heart was broken and it seemed that his mind was following.”

She snorts at me and her eyes flash with anger, “Don’t you dare, don’t you damned well dare make excuses for him Isabé”

I ignore her, for I never heard Blanche speak ill of him.

Recounting how with a sling across her body to carry me, Blanche walked away from that place, pausing only to say a prayer at the grave of Marielle and Ève. I tell more of our story before I can forget the things Blanche has told me, the nights sleeping in barns or even in the open, that she begged rides on carts when she could and for a while joined with a group of nuns, then later walked with Pilgrims heading here to Rouen to see a blessing at the Cathedral before they set off to Santiago. There were always plenty of people on the road and it seems that on the journey back here, I became Isabé Pelletier her niece, child of her her late sister.

The pain in my head has worsened, like an ever beating drum the thumping sensation is relentless, and my eyes are gritty and sore.

“Isabé, you look so weary, stop now, tell me the rest later hein”

“I think I shall burst if I don’t tell someone whilst it is fresh in my mind and who better than you my friend,” I smile broadly at her “My sister”

I see a flush settle on her cheeks, “Don’t be so silly Isabé.”

“Truly Jehanne, you **_are_** like a sister to me” Her blush deepens and she shakes her head.

“But you survived Isabé.”

“Indeed, Madame Bouvier confirmed Blanche’s story to whoever asked and no matter what anyone thought in private, no one challenged her to her face. It was she that told Blanche my Father had left to fight in the Holy War”

“When Hénri returned from fighting, Blanche helped to care for him, I think he had always held a place in his heart for her, twice he proposed marriage, and twice she refused.  Finally she told him she was waiting for my father’s return but when he heard the name, he had to break the news to her that he had seen him fall on the battlefield and that although he had watched his body carried away he was sure he had not survived.”

“Poor, poor Blanche” I sigh, to hear such news after waiting so long, it must have felt like a blow.”

Tears are still not far away and my voice cracks, “Yes a short love affair, but I know now that he was the only man she truly loved, indeed still loves, Hénri knows it too.”

“But your father is alive is he not Isabé?”

“Oh yes and somewhere in Rouen, he returned many months after the other survivors and found Blanche married and already pregnant with Guillaume.”

“Sweet Mary Mother of God, he must have hated her for that.”

“No, No Jehanne it seems that in spite of being rebellious he is also a very forgiving and practical man, for that matter so is Hénri and he never forbade my father the right to visit Blanche or me, though I have no memory of anyone in particular, we had so many visitors once we moved to the Manor.

“Do you know why he returned so long after the others?”

“Blanche would not say, it seems that is tale to tell.”

I hear the bitter note in my voice, I can’t help it for I fear that I shall never know the truth of it.

Jehanne scrambles to her feet and reaches down to clasp my hand, standing quickly I grow dizzy and sway a little as everything goes black.

“Isabé what is it, are you well?

“Just a little light headed”

“For God’s sake when did you last eat, I know you had nothing before you went to the Mason’s yard”

As I frown at her I think back.

“I don’t know, yesterday perhaps, yes, yesterday, midday.”

“Idiot, all this upset and upheaval, the cleaning, Raymond going to Paris and not least Blanche”

 “That’s why I forgot with all this shit happening” I snap back at her, “Christ, you’re not my mother, so don’t speak to me as if you are.” I stare wide eye at her and bite at my bottom lip as I realise the stupidity of what I have just said.

“Jehanne I...” She cut’s me off, but she smiling.”

“Kitchen, Now!” She bellows at me. “I will carry on here”

“Alright, Alright I’m going, I need to speak with Fournier anyway”

Jehanne rolls her eyes and shakes her head, then leans forward to kiss my cheek.

“You will need to be fit for Raymond coming home, he will want a wife who can match his energy and from what I have seen so far he has plenty of that” She winks and leers at me “Now go”

I make my way down the stairs and across to the screens passage.

A blast of hot air hits me as I enter the kitchens, in the centre of the room the Seneschal stands straight as a spear and whilst everyone else wilts in the heat he seems indifferent to it.

Shorter than Fournier by at least a foot, the Chef stands toe to toe with him and cranes his neck. He is clearly agitated, though with all the noise I can’t hear what he is saying.  I smile for what he lacks in height the smaller man makes up for in build, his ruddy, sweaty face is contorted into an angry mask and as he speaks he waves his arms around. This would hardly matter were it not for the fact that he clutches a large knife in his right fist and in his left, a cleaver, both of which seem to swipe perilously close to the Seneschal.

Fournier stands as calm as if he were being addressed by a venerable old Aunt, when he speaks it seems to infuriate Chef all the more, until finally he quietens, gives a curt nod  and stomps off to another part of his domain.

The Seneschal misses nothing, he knows I’m there, I saw him slide a sideways look at me as I entered the kitchen and he strides across and bids me good morning.

“Good Day to you Monsieur Fournier, if you have time I should like to speak with you about the wedding” I smile up at him. “I may be the Bride but I know nothing of the arrangements and as Sieur Raymond has been called to Paris not even the date is settled.”

“Of course I have time Mam’selle, but it is just Fournier.”

I nod my head and notice his grey eyes are almost silver in this light.

“First though if I may, I should like some food, I have been so busy that I have not eaten since midday yesterday”

“We must set that to rights Mam’selle , what can I have brought for you?”

 “I must admit I have no real appetite some cheese and bread will suffice” He waves a kitchen maid over and speaks in a low voice, as she scurries away he guides me across the kitchen to where a large table and two chairs are wedged in a corner.

“Mam’selle my office.”

“Forgive me, but I should have thought that as Seneschal you would have your own private office”

“Oh indeed I do, close by the Baron’s quarters, but this is convenient for the day to day business of the Chateau and everyone knows where to find me. The other is for more private matters with the Baron or Sieur Raymond, besides I like the bustle and the noise in here.”

He gestures towards the chair nearest to me “Please, sit” He waits until I do before he settles into the other.

The dark wood of the table is battered and ink stained, on it an earthenware jug, two beakers, ink pot, quills and four neat stacks of parchment sheets arranged in front of him. Each, one weighted down by some object, an unusually shaped and coloured stone, a small wooden box, a carved stone hand missing two fingers, and on one, what looks to be the remains of a child’s toy, battered and broken now but unmistakeably a small wooden horse. Something about that discarded toy strikes at my heart, it makes me feel desperately sad.

Taking two sheets of parchment from the stack beneath the stone hand and one from each of the others, he runs a long finger down the columns of words and figures on each sheet and reads out each item. His attention to detail is impressive.

As he speaks my food is brought across, so much for bread and cheese, I widen my eyes and smile at him.

A dish of peaches, fresh young cheese and warm bread, a dish of honey,thick slices of ham, a dish of almonds with spices, enough for three at least.

I pull some bread, spread it thickly with the cheese and drizzle it with a little hone then sinking my teeth into the soft, sweet, salty, tangy whiteness. “Delicious, thank you”

“My pleasure” He leans back in his chair

 “So Mam’selle as you see everything is well underway.” His smile is broad and generous. “Whatever supplies we cannot provide for ourselves will be brought in, they will begin to arrive tomorrow, though of course it will be only be those items which will not perish in this heat. The rest we can arrange when.” he smiles across at me “When Sieur Raymond advises me of the date”

“I understand perfectly Fournier” and I smile back in sympathy “I too should be delighted to know exactly when he has decided drag me before the Priest.”

I am rewarded by a rumble of laughter and his eyes glitter “Indeed Mam’selle, indeed!  Though I am given to understand that the Archbishop will conduct your wedding at the Cathedral. As for quests the number is already at,” he rifles through his lists “One hundred and fifty three and should His Majesty deign to grace us with his presence, the number will increase markedly”

I gasp, “His Majesty?” my voice is no more than a squeak.

Fournier pours wine into a beaker and passes it to me, my fingers tremble as I raise it to my lips to take a sip.

“Sieur Raymond is held in very high regard by the King, so personally, I think it is more likely than not that he will attend.”

“Then thank goodness we have started to clean the Chateau.” I sip at my wine and watch him from under my lashes as he rearranges the sheets of parchment.

**_“I think you will be a good friend Fournier, another ally”_ **

We sit in silence as I eat, enjoying the delicious simple food.

“I must go Fournier, thank you for the food and for what you have told me” I rise to leave and he accompanies me to the screens passage.

“Should there be anything else you need Mam’selle, you know where to find me”

I smile up at him, “Oh you have everything well in hand, I don’t think for one moment I shall need to trouble you much at all”

He nods, smiles “As you wish Mam’selle but you are most welcome here at any time and I have some ideas for the feast that you may like to hear, I was” he chooses his word “I was discussing them with DuFour as you as you arrived.”

“Yes I saw, is he always so excitable?”

“Oh sometimes far worse but,” He taps the side of his nose “Humbert DuFour is a master of his craft, he is an artist, the King has tried to entice him away more than once.

“He really is that good?”

“Oh indeed and I know he would be delighted if you would come and taste some of the wonderful dishes he is creating for your special day.”

I look across to where Chef DuFour is working, and rapt in concentration, his brow deeply furrowed

“I will not disturb him now, but would you tell him please that it it would be my pleasure?”

“Of course Mam’selle, though I fear it will make him even more unbearable, God help us”

His laugh rumbles up again.

“Thank you for your time Fournier, for everything

“It is what I do” He shrugs and bids me good day.

There is a brightness to Fourniers eyes, a soft indulgent smile on his lips and as Isabé walks away he smiles and whispers.

“How could I not do this for my own Daughter?”

 

Raymond and his Captain Mathieu Descoteaux ride side by side. A Sadness works deep into Raymond, sadness and disappointment,  that Guillame of all people should be working against him, it has cut is heart.

“Keep your eyes on him when I cannot Mathieu, I hope I may yet save him if he is not in too deep”

Mathieu gives him a searching look, Raymond nods, for if Guillaume cannot be pulled from this mire, there is only one solution “If needs be then he must die, either at my hand or yours Descoteaux”

“Understood Sieur, Understood.” And with a nod the Captain reins away to ride a horses length behind his lord.

Raymond, pulls a corner of Isabés veil from his tunic. It is a little grubby now but still carries her scent of roses and he breathes it in then unseen, he presses the cloth against his lips before tucking it away again.

" ** _Sweet Christ all I want is not to have to do this anymore but to be home with **Isabé  in my arms."**_**

He closes his eyes for a moment, smiles and whispers her name.

 

 

 

**To reach the position of Cellarer as a Benedictine Fournier would have had to serve a much longer period than he did. From Postulant to Novice and Junior could have taken at least 4 years if not longer. So I’m taking licence here and using the premise that family would have gifted the Abbey a substantial sum of money or land and that would have “eased” his progress.

I have tried to keep other timelines correctly fitted, but hey my sandpit my rules.


	15. Chapter 15

I have always disliked Sunday,  it makes me so ill-tempered. Surely the Lord does not care over much whether we mouth our prayers, dress neatly or sit quietly and grow more bored by the second. My mind is whirling and I am itching to get on with the work of cleaning the Chateau. However for now, I sit quietly with Jehanne and as befits well brought up young women, we bend our wills to our needlework. I suppose it will be good to rest, though I am no stranger to hard work for Blanche has schooled me well but my knees are red and sore, the skin on my hands is rough and dry, from being plunged in and out of hot water and before I could begin to sew I had to work salve into them, worst of all my thigh hurts like hell. 

Mass was celebrated in the Baron’s private chapel with members of the household and to my surprise Henri and Blanche joined us.  I can’t fault my soon to be Father-in-Law for his attempt to bring us all together.  Henri was guarded at first, this big bluff man seemed almost shy for he was no longer titled Uncle but Stepfather and as was proper I greeted him as such. As for Blanche, she held back, her body tense her face a polite mask, for it was clear that my coldness towards her had left her unsettled, deeply saddened and not a little wary. 

_**“This will not do Isabé,” I chide myself “Swallow your pride and let her be happy”** _

**Mère, vous êtes les bienvenus, je sais dans mon cœur que vous m'avez toujours aimé, mettons-le derrière nous et recommencez. (1)

Grasping her hands I lean in to plant a gentle kiss on each cheek. Her trembling smile and bright eyes tell me everything, the relief washes over her as tears spill down her face and she wraps her arms around me. Henri looks on with a broad smile lighting his face and when he hugs me it’s like being embraced by a bear, even his eyes are a little glassy. Jehanne is right, the only difference is in the title and that has nothing to do with how Blanche has cared for me.

“Christ I am bored!” to emphasise my words I fling my needlework across the room in temper, it hits the wall with a soft slap and slides to the floor”

“Patience was never your strong point Isabé.” 

Jehanne smirks at me and like a petulant child, I stick out my tongue at her, she rolls her eyes “Perhaps though you are just tired, you do not seem to be sleeping well” 

I can feel my brows knitting together in a frown as her smile grows ever broader.

“What are you talking about, I sleep perfectly well.”

“If that is you sleeping well, than I am going to go and spend tonight in a barn somewhere, I’m sick of it. All I hear is you whimpering, mewling and moaning Raymond’s name.”

I look at the floor, then back at her as I feel the heat rise in my cheeks and I begin to protest.

She cuts me off with an unladylike snort of laughter and then locks her gaze to mine but I can’t hold it and I bow my head again.

“I had to leave the room last night, Holy Mother Isabé, it’s doubtful you would have made more noise if Raymond had been here fucking you himself.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous Jehanne, I’m not even sure I like the man”  

My voice is cutting but trails off lamely and she knows I am lying, as I try to dig myself out of this particular hole. I feel my face burn even more fiercely, for I know what she says is true. 

My dream had been so real, even now I can still feel Raymond’s touch, one hand wrapped tightly in my hair, his lips searing and burning tracks across my skin and I clench my thighs as I recall the sheer bliss of feeling him buried deep inside me, stretching me, filling me. But I woke with an empty heart and a sense of overwhelming sadness, I wept because he was not there and the only way I could assuage the raging need for him was with my own hand.

“Oh Isabé, lie to yourself if you must but it serves no purpose and for God’s sake stop lying to me, I know you too well. Raymond has worked his way under your skin and perhaps into your heart. The way you look at him and speak to him, I’ve seen the fire in your eyes and in his, you may not love him yet but mark my words you will.”

“Jehanne stop, stop now, you overstep the mark and forget your place!” 

My voice is discordant even to my own ears and the moment the words leave my mouth, I wish I could bite off my tongue. At least I have the grace to feel ashamed, for I have never, ever spoken to her in such a harsh way. Jehanne has always been a friend, a confident and she is the nearest I shall ever have to a sister.

My stomach roils. Is it because she is right and has seen a truth that I will not admit to myself, or is it just that she has the temerity to even suggest such a thing?

Jehanne rests her needlework in her lap, when I look across her eyes are clouded with sadness and disappointment, she chews at the inside of her mouth but she does not drop her gaze from mine.

“Please Jehanne.” my voice is low and wavers a little. “Forgive my sharp tongue, it was petty and unjust of me to say such things, you must know…” 

She raises her right hand like a priest giving a benediction.

“Isabé, stop, I cannot deny your words have cut me.” She pauses to tuck a stray lock of hair back under her veil, there is a high spot of colour on each cheek but the slightest smile settles on her closed lips. 

“Perhaps you are just overtired, you have hardly had a moments rest since”, her smile broadens now. “Since that, surly, scarred, bastard with the jewel eyes brought you here, then sauntered off to Paris as soon as the King snapped his fingers.”

I begin to laugh a little, dust motes dance and sparkle in the sunlight, Jehanne’s chair creaks as she leans forward to pour wine, it gurgles and sploshes into the cups and suddenly my laugh turns to tears and I begin to cry in earnest.

“Isabé, be calm, you are overwrought it is just nerves” 

I hiccough and sniffle “I am never overwrought, I’m not some highly strung green girl.” 

Out of her chair now, she crouches down and wraps her arms around me as I weep against her shoulder.

“Hush, hush now you are overtired that is all and this hellish heat does not help”

“ _ **I don’t love him, I love him, I don’t want him, I want him, I don’t need him or do I?”**_

My mind whirls. He has been gone for only two days and already I need to see his face again, to watch his eyes change colour with every mood. I ache to hear his voice, the way it growls from his throat and drips with hot lustful words assaulting my ear, or when it is no more than a soft breathy whisper. The quick exchanges and battles of wit or the way he laughs, dear God I miss him and I might as well admit it at least to myself.

Jehannes gentle voice stirs me from my thoughts.

“For once Isabé, let your heart have free rein, the head is not always the best counsellor”

My shoulders rise and fall in a deep shuddering sigh, I can’t answer her and I’m saved from the need to do so by the sound of someone knocking at the door. Before I can call out it swings open and Eleanor steps into the room with Nicolette in tow.

“Forgive my lateness Mam’selle Pelletier” she is careful to observe the rules of address that I have set “I had some urgent business to attend to.”

I notice that the fingers of her right hand are lightly furled against the palm and I glance up at her a frown on my face, she turns slightly away from Jehanne and winks at me. 

“No matter, you are here now Madame, and there is still work to do” I take her lead.

“Jehanne would you do me a favour pleased and fetch one of the smaller hangings that we found in those chests yesterday, I should like to hear Madame Forrestier’s view on it and on what we might use it for.” 

As I knew she would, dear Jehanne bridles a little at being dismissed, no matter that it is temporary so with exaggerated care and a deep sigh she rolls her needlework so as not to crease it, then sets it aside on the table. At the door way she hesitates, turns and flashes a look of loathing at Eleanor.

“I shall not take long Isabé.” She stresses my name so as to leave Eleanor in no doubt that she is my intimate friend. Her voice is a little  waspish as she adds “If you wished to be private with Madame Forrestier you had only to say, and besides I see no reason why we should not all walk there and inspect the hangings” the door slams behind her.

**_“Sweet Jesu, will they ever reconcile themselves, or will I forever be caught between them ?”_ **

Eleanor’s brows fly upwards and I shrug. “Jehanne is very protective of me.”  
“It is good to have such a friend but there may be a time when you need someone who can really protect you.”

The thought of that horrified me. “Someone such as you?” 

“If necessary.” Her voice is matter of fact but I shudder nonetheless.

“Please sit.” I wave my hand towards the chair beside me and she settles into it smoothing her dress over her knees, then drops a kiss to her daughter’s head.

 “Go and play my sweet.” Clutching her rag doll Nicolette trots over to my bed and clambers up onto the coverlet, where she begins to lay down the law to her recalcitrant “child”. 

“So, Eleanor, before Jehanne comes bursting back in what is it that you wish to tell me?

Unfurling her fingers she reveals a small wooden cylinder lying on the palm of her hand.

“From Raymond?” I whisper.

“Yes, it is for you Isabé”

My fingers tremble as I take it from her and notice the “l” scored into the wax, holding  my breath I break the seal. It surprises me that Raymond’s letters are tiny, neat and well-formed and as I read them my heart races and a smile settles on my mouth

**Je suis arrivé en toute sécurité, mon travail ne prendra pas longtemps. Le Roi assistera au mariage. Mon amour pour toi ma chérie Isabé. (2)

I stare up at her and there is something about her eyes that catches my attention, then suddenly I understand”

Looking again over Raymond’s words, I see what I missed at the first reading, there are strange barely discernible dots and odd little pen strokes above or below certain letters.

“This is a cipher”

“No, it is the key to the cipher”

“Ah then the messages would need to be delivered separately, Raymond would have sent two birds for security, hence you know what is written here Eleanor, for without it, your own message would be impossible to understand”  
I wave the scrap of parchment under her nose. “Am I right?

A slight smile curves her lips. “Well reasoned Isabé,”

“Can you tell me what your message says Eleanor?”

“No, not all but I can say that,” there is a brief hesitation as she considers her words. “Raymond is in danger Isabé, as is the King but they know the source of it and Raymond’s assignment is to protect both his Majesty and of course himself.”

I frown at her and watch her face closely. Feeling a tightness in my throat I swallow hard and it hurts.

“I’m not a fool Eleanor, why is it that the information omitted from a tale I generally the most important, in order to protect the King, Raymond is required to forfeit his own life if necessary am I right?”

“Yes Isabé I will not lie, that is the way of it”

Eleanor glances over to the bed where Nicolette has curled herself on my pillow, she is fast asleep.

“For your honesty and for what you have told me Eleanor, thank you. I know you cannot reveal all but can Jehanne know of this, I should like to be able to confide in her”

She considers my request then blows out her breath.

“No, no, I think the fewer who know the better” She is right of course.

It never ceases to amaze Raymond whenever he comes to Paris just how much Philip has achieved. The Cathedral of Our Lady of Paris is beginning to rise from the ground and it will be magnificent, he has had the city walled, replaced old wooden bridges with stone, even some of the streets are paved. But this is not a place where Raymond would choose to live or where he feels comfortable for long.  
He laughs to himself, 

**_“By the Devils arse, I shall soon turn into a fat old farmer”_ **

Entry into the Palais de la Cité is easy for Raymond, Guillaume and their men,  they are expected and are simply waved through to the lower ward and on into the upper.  
Before they can even rein in, a tall wiry man with his grey hair dressed in what Raymond supposes to be the latest fashion, strides over to them. It is Nicolas Desroches, the Castellan, Philips “Mastiff”, he takes his orders only from the King and everyone else take theirs from him, or at least they do if they have any sense.  
“Sieur Raymond, welcome, welcome it is good to see you, forgive my haste but His Majesty has given instructions that you are to present yourself to him the moment you arrive.” 

As he dismounts Raymond can hear Geoffroy behind him, muttering and complaining bitterly.

“Can His Majesty not allow us a least a little time to clean and refresh ourselves?”

The Castellan simply smiles.

“Forgive me Maçon for not making myself clear, the King made no mention of you being in attendance, therefore you are quite at liberty to do as you wish, it is only Sieur Raymond he desires to speak with.”

Raymond catches the fleeting but furious look on Geoffroy’s face.

“Is that so, we shall see, let us present ourselves to the King Raymond, the sooner this is done the sooner we can be in our chambers bathed, fed and resting.” He strides away leaving the others to follow in his wake.

Desroches smirks and shakes his head.

“One day that man’s attitude and temper will be his downfall Hien?”

Raymond shrugs, “He’s survived very well….until now”

Nicolas catches something in Raymonds tone and it unsettles him.

In spite of his bluster Geoffroy has waited in the Great Hall, but neither Raymond nor Nicolas break their stride and he is left to catch up as they wend their way to Philips most private apartments. On their approach the guards on either side of the doorway snap to attention and the one to the right thumps once on the solid wood. Nicolas gestures that Raymond should enter and Geoffroy follows hard on Raymond’s heels, but he doesn’t even get a toe over the threshold before the guards block his way. 

“Again, I apologise Maçon for not being clear, but his Majesty will speak with you at some other time, your chambers are ready, please go and bathe, eat, relax and be thankful, for it will no doubt be some time before Sieur Raymond sees his bed.”

The chamber is large and sumptuous as befits a King such as Philip Augustus, but  he does not recall if being furnished in such high style on his last visit and he almost reels as the vivid colours of the hangings and painted furniture practically scorch his eyes. Raymond does not consider himself so much of a provincial peasant that he cannot recognise the quality of the work, or even that a great deal of coin has been lavished on this inner sanctum. But he is aware that it is all for show, created to impress and even intimidate and is all too gaudy for his taste. It would drive him insane were he to stay in here for too long. 

Standing at the farthest end of the room in this, his most private space, Philip opens his arms wide and approaches Raymond.

Welcome my friend, it is gracious of you to give up a little of your rest after your journey.

 ** _“As if I have any fucking choice”_** Raymond thinks to himself, but his expression gives the lie to his thought and he smiles. 

Philip extends his right hand, Raymond takes hold and with head bowed drops to one knee, before brushing his lips against the large blue stone of the ring the King wears on his middle finger.

“Sire, as always I am yours to command.” 

Robust and handsome with a ruddy, cheerful face, Philip smiles down.

“Get up Raymond, you and I have known each other too well and too long to stand on such ceremony, share some wine with me and slake your thirst before we begin our business.”

Philip hands him a fine golden cup, and Raymond savours the rich, full taste of good wine as he holds the liquid in his mouth, then  lets it slide down his throat to wash away the dust of the journey. 

Phillip wades in straight away.

“You are to pay court to Madame Jeanne Beauchene”

Giving himself a little time to respond, Raymond hitches one arse cheek onto the table and braces his right foot to the floor. He is one of the few men in Philips circle to be allowed such latitude and freedom from protocol.

“So I understand Sire, though in all honesty I cannot admit to being taken with the idea”

Philip catches the slight sneer settling on Raymond’s face.

“Don’t be so pig headed de Merville, it is the perfect ruse to hide the real reason for your call to Paris. However there is a small, how shall I put it, “amendment” to your instructions.”

Raymond feels the familiar warning tingle on the back of his neck and he stares narrow eyed at his King.

“How so? He keeps his voice level and takes another swallow of wine, as a broad smile spreads across Philips face.

“I have the names of two more traitors and God be praised it appears we have the head of the serpent.” 

“Am I to understand Sire that my orders now are to despatch all four”

“No, only the original quarry and one more, the leader, for without its head, the serpent will not survive.”

“As you wish Majesty” Raymond raises his cup in salute to Philip.

“Ah but I neglected to tell you my friend, that the head belongs to a woman.”

Philip watches his man closely and his opinion of him does not change one iota, there is not a flicker of emotion on that grim face, he was right all those years ago to take him into his personal service. Raymond de Merville is a cold, emotionless bastard who he knows will not baulk at his task and he feels a great deal of sympathy for Raymond’s soon to be young wife. 

“It will not cause you any unease to despatch a woman?”

The dark, dour faced assassin shrugs and flicks  a nonchalant gesture with his left hand.   

“No, Sire why would you think otherwise, I do what I do and there is an end to it.”

What Philip does not know, is that trickles of cold sweat run down Raymond’s spine and sides as he fights to keep his emotions steady. Though he has killed women before when the need has arisen, he freezes inside at the revelation but his expression never changes.

A small jewelled box sits on the table and from it Philip pulls apiece of parchment with four names written on it. He smooths it out on the table and Raymond nods as he reads the name, then runs his finger down the list.

“So this man and this woman are my targets?

He glances up at his King and Philip feels a chill run down his own spine at Raymond’s flat, cold tone. No wonder there are those who have name him “The King’s Butcher.”

“And the others?”

“I will leave that to your discretion my friend although,” Philip stabs a finger at the last name on the list. “I feel that he, given the opportunity and some “Encouragement” could be redeemed.” 

“I agree, but what of this man?” he points to the name below that of the woman.

“Not enough is known  of his activities but I have no doubt he is deeply embroiled in this, perhaps we should allow him more time to show his true colours”

“It will be done Majesty.”

**Mother, you are most welcome, l know in my heart that you have always loved me, let us put this behind us and start afresh.1

** I have arrived safely, my work will not take long. The King will attend the wedding. My love to you my darling Isabé 2


	16. Chapter 16

As a member of the King’s inner circle Raymond is afforded rights, privileges and a certain amity with Philip that many of the other nobles and officials aspired to, but are unlikely to achieve.

In fact Raymond is probably the most trusted of that small fellowship and he certainly fares a great deal better than most. His Majesty gifted him a grace and favour chamber for his sole use and for that, Raymond is decidedly grateful. For even in this warren of a place, space is hard to come by. Inhabitants of all ranks fight tooth and nail for some corner they can call their own. 

Not a gregarious man by nature, Raymond is thankful it is calm, remarkably comfortable and tucked away in the most secluded part of the Palace.  A Narrow bed with a good mattress, a table, two chairs and a locked chest where he keeps some clothing and personal items. On the far right of the wall where the bed is set, is an archway leading to a much smaller empty room and up two steps from there set behind the sweep of the curving wall is the garderobe.   
From the row of three small, deep set windows a slight breeze filters up from the river keeping the plain lime washed room cool. If he cranes his neck to the right he can see the Pont au Change, which even at this early hour will soon be bustling with merchants and money lenders.   
   
 Guillaume, as a well-trained squire should, has already organised the stabling and care of Voluceur, overseen the provision of food and wine for his Lord and is presently engaged in supervising the filling of the bathing tub.  
   
“You idiot, you have forgotten to line it with the linen, now you will have lay it on the water and wait until it is wetted l before you can push it down, or would you rather that Sieur Raymond gets splinters in his arse!”  
   
The object of Guillaumes wrath is a young house maid, who has been roused from her sleep at this ungodly hour, is rushed off her feet and hasn’t even had time to break her fast.  She looks to be no more than thirteen or fourteen.  Of course she knows the linen cloth goes in first, she just forgot. On any other day she would have told Guillaume to _“Go fuck himself”_ But her stomach rumbles, her head aches and she is tired. So instead she sighs, shrugs and stays quiet.  
   
As Raymond enters the he room hears Guillaume and laughs. 

  
“Don’t worry girl, it would have made no difference, my arse is so numb from being in the saddle I shouldn’t notice if someone hammered nails into it.”

She looks up at him and a shy, hesitant smile flickers across her lips. Raymond smiles back.

 

“What’s your name?”

   
“Benoîte, Sieur,” and she bobs a curtesy.  
   
He strides across to the table and looks at the food.  
   
“Have you eaten?” he is still smiling at Benoîte, but she stares wide eyed at him and shrinks back a little.  
 ** _  
“Hell she looks as if she hasn’t had a decent meal in days”_**  
   
“No Sieur” her voice is no more than a whisper  
   
“Then Hold out your apron.”  He nods at Benoîte and she flashes him a nervous look but does as he bids.  
   
He tears the crusty white loaf in half, selects a ripe peach and an apple then hacks a chunk from a large wedge of cheese, the same from a slab of ham and places the items into the apron.  
   
The child gathers up the cloth to secure her prize.  
   
 “Thank you Sieur, God bless you.” She grins up at himself and drops a low but unsteady curtesy.  
   
A wry smile twists his mouth.  
   
“I should think I am far beyond any blessing our Lord would care to bestow, now go and find some quiet place to enjoy it whilst you can, we can manage”  
   
She curtsies again and her face flushes crimson as she shoots him a wide toothy grin and rushes from the room.  Behind his back and before she closes the door, she turns and she sticks out her tongue at Guillaume. Raymond has captured another heart.  
   
“It would serve you well to remember that once you more than a little inept Guillaume, I know you aim to reach high but make sure you don’t fall hard in the meantime.”  
   
“Sieur” Guillaume manages to look abashed as he steps forward to to take the belt, sword and scabbard that Raymond is already unbuckling.  
Poldrons are unlaced and removed, the mail coif comes next, then the tabard stained and dusty ,Guillaume folds it and sets it aside as Raymond lifts his arms above his head, then bends forward allow the Mail hauberk to be pulled and dragged off him and he sighs with relief as his body becomes accustomed to the lack of the weight, even after all these years it still takes him by surprise.  
   
Guillaume busies himself checking over the leather, all it needs is a good clean and polish, as for the mail that will mean a trip to the armoury to roll it  inside a sand barrel. As he clatters about he tries to ignore the sight of his Lord disrobing. First comes the now grubby and slightly malodorous piece of linen from beneath his undershirt, Raymond folds it and lays carefully it over the back of the nearest chair. Gambeson, undershirt, chausses and finally the braies are all removed, Guillaume feels the flush rising in his cheeks, Raymond doesn’t even notice. He simply groans, stretches and steps over the high side of the tub, standing for a moment to accustom himself to the heat of the water before gradually lowering himself into it. Tilting his head back against the linen covered wood he slides his arms along the sides and with a deep sigh of pleasure closes his eyes.

Low stools have been set to each, a full wine cup is at hand on the right and on the left, a small jug full of soapwort liquid scented with thyme and lemon, squares of linen for washing are placed beside it and in a shallow basket folded linen cloths for drying. The only sound in the room is that of Guillaume moving about, until Raymond hears two knocks at the door.  
He swears under his breath at the disturbance, but when it could be a message from the King it is best not to ignore it. Before Guillaume even reaches the door it swings open and a lithe, handsome woman steps in.  
   
“Ah, Cher Raymond, it is good to see you after such a long time.”  
With a sigh he lazily opens his left eye and glances across to the door.  
   
“Madame, do you not think it might be considered improper for you to be forcing entry into my chamber” his grin belies the tone of his voice.  
   
“Acch Raymond we have known each other for far too long and have shared” She stresses the words, _“far too much”_ to worry about what others may consider improper and I should like to speak with you privately if I may.”  
   
“Of course” he nods at Guillaume. “Leave that for now, there will be time enough later. Go and kick your heels somewhere.”  
  
“Thank you Sieur, I will take your tunic and undergarments to the washer women, shall I take this also?” He picks up the veil between finger and thumb wrinkling his nose as he does so.

“No, leave that be” and Guillaume sets it back down surprised at the harsh tone. For as soiled as it is, Raymond cannot bear to have the last faint traces of Isabé’s perfume washed away. 

 

“Have you found somewhere to stay?”

  
“Yes Sieur, with Capt Descoteaux it’s small but comfortable enough”

 

“Then I also suggest you get some well-earned sleep and I shall speak with you later.”

  
A slight bow, and Guillaume leaves the room closing the door quietly behind him.  
   
Madame Jeanne Beauchêne pauses only long enough to fill a second wine cup from the table before she steps towards the bath tub. Before removing the dish and cloths from the stool Jeanne stands beside the tub and sips her wine as she greedily and unashamedly lets her eyes wander from Raymonds face, slide down his broad chest and down further still before staring pointedly through the clear water at his groin.

 

“Ah, still all man I see” the stool creaks a little as she plonks herself down to face Raymond  
   
He grunts and swallows a mouthful of wine.  
   
“You are, as always, incorrigible Jeanne”  
   
“Oh come, come my dear Raymond, I am well aware of your attributes and if you care to remember, I have had an intimate acquaintance with your cock on several occasions.” Her brows fly high as she nods at the water and what lies beneath. “It seems nothing much has changed there, so between you and me, I don’t think your young wife will be in the least bit disappointed in her battered old war horse of a husband.”  
   
“Besides my friend, I hardly think anyone would expect us to behave like two young lovers. Let’s face it I am not much older than Eleanor, a rich widow to boot, with two small sons but you”, she grins and raises her wine cup in salute, “are just old” Her smile reaches up to her eyes. “Though still a handsome bastard”

His attempt to cling to even the smallest shred of dignity disappears as he throws his head back and laughs a deep throaty laugh.

“Brave, enchanting, funny, lascivious Jeanne, now I recall why I always preferred you as my comrade in arms on some Godforsaken mission. You could brighten even the worst situation. It seems you have hardly changed at all and I can’t fault Philip for choosing you to be my accomplice.” Jeanne Beauchêne lays her hand on Raymonds.

“I am flattered that you would place me above Eleanor, she was and still is a force to be reckoned with”

“Indeed”, Raymond agrees and raises his wine cup in a toast.  “But somehow she never seemed to be able find any levity in the circumstances we sometimes found ourselves in.”

“Forgive me Jeanne I forget my manners, I have not offered my condolences on the death of Alain”

The light in her eyes dims just a little, her smile droops as she nips at the inside of her mouth and almost absentmindedly glances around the chamber gradually settling herself. 

 “Thank you, yes when you last came to Paris I was ensconced in the country with my dying husband and his family.” She sucks her lower lip between her teeth, hesitating before she speaks again. “Oh Raymond, it was a slow and painful death my friend, the kind I would not wish on anyone, well, perhaps with one or two exceptions.”

 Her smile holds little warmth and less humour. 

With a twist of his hand, Raymond curls his fingers around hers and squeezes gently, a small act of sympathy and understanding.

“My poor Jeanne, you did love him so.”

“Yes I did Raymond, in my own way I truly did love him and he loved me. God knows but I led that dear man a hell of dance.” He hears the regret in her laugh, sees the pain in her eyes and knows that her grief is still raw.

Hazel eyes lock to blue, her shoulders rise and fall as she sighs. “He was a good man to me. He understood the nature of my profession and gave me the freedom to live my life as I did, few women can say that.” Tears brim in her eyes and threaten to fall, Raymond still has hold of her hand.  
   
“Ah well, I am not here to talk of my troubles, what do you make of the list Raymond? 

“Interesting” his voice is flat and matter of fact.

“You find the names surprising?

“One of them not at all, I already have my suspicions about one more but as for the other two, they are a complete surprise. Especially that woman, her name has been bouncing around my head since I spoke with the King” 

Eyes closed again, he rubs his hands hard up and down his face.  

“I can’t believe she has been hiding in plain sight for Christ knows how long,” he slams his right hand hard down on the narrow edge of the tub. “Bitch, fucking bitch, I must have been blind or stupid or both and why, why would she would work with, let alone even control these traitors?” his voice trails off as he takes another mouthful of wine, rolls it round his mouth and swallows hard. Jaw set and eyes closed he tilts his head back again.

“Don’t be too harsh on yourself my friend, it took us all by surprise. I have some thoughts about her but it would be best to discover for yourself what pushed her to it, what I can give you amounts to nothing more than speculation.”

Jeanne smiles, as she casts her eyes over his handsome face.

_**“If only”**_ she muses 

“Ignorance is no excuse” he whispers back her, then turns his head away suddenly and stares for a moment at the patch of blue sky framed by the window. He is so damned angry with himself for not knowing.  
   
Jeanne changes tack. “So you are to be married to a pretty little country girl I hear” 

Gently he lifts the back of her hand to his mouth and brushes a soft kiss against the cool skin.

“Well only if I don’t decide to marry you dear Jeanne” a wicked smile lights his face.

“Well you certainly need a wife, I come with a readymade family, enough coin and land to keep you in the style and fashion” A girlish giggle escapes her, she can think of no one less interested in fashion, baubles and fripperies than Raymond.

“No one will think it the least strange His Majesty has decreed that as a woman I can’t possibly administer my own affairs and should take a new husband. Courting me will give you ample opportunity to observe and deal with your main target. Oh and I shall certainly enjoy having you pay court to me Raymond she leers and winks. ”After all, we have known each other for a long time often enjoyed great intimacy.

“That was a long time ago my friend and probably best forgotten”

“Oh my dear Raymond I shall never forget” 

“It’s sad that so few people know the truth about you Raymond” 

“So tell me, what is the truth?”

“Oh they all think you are a miserable, bad tempered, prickly bastard and yes that is partly true I suppose, but there are so few who see the other side to you, the kindness and gentleness in you”

Raymond says nothing, but he huffs and the corner of his mouth quirks up in a half smile.

“So how is the beautiful Eleanor?”

“Still beautiful and wise enough to resign herself to the fact that I’m to be married.”

Jeanne wags her slender finger at him then pokes him in the chest.

“You know you should have married her, you will soon tire of your little country girl who will look at you with doe eyes and always be under your feet”

Raymond’s laughter begins as a low chuckle, then he throws his head back and roars it out.

“Your intelligence reports must be lacking it that’s what they tell you, or perhaps you are only guessing.”

Undaunted Jeanne continues. “Oh she is not very tall, has a nicely shaped figure, a pretty face, some report her as beautiful and very pale hair. Like an Angel I hear.”

“Angel, if so she is not one of God’s that’s for sure.” 

Jeanne stares at him.

“Really, do tell Raymond you know I love to hear gossip”

“This Angel,” he shakes his head at the thought. “In less than two days had bested both me and my father, caused uproar and mayhem, burned my mattress, stormed into my chamber whist I was otherwise engaged,”

“With Eleanor?” 

“With Eleanor.”

She watches him closely and notices how his eyes sparkle and his features soften when he speaks of Isabé, there is real affection there. He relates the whole episode until Jeanne rocks herself back and forth clutching her sides as she gasps for breath and tears of laughter roll down her face, Raymond laughs with her.

“Well good for her, it’s no less than you deserve, fucking your Mistress only hours after you bring home your Bride to be, I’m surprised she didn’t take a carving knife to you and geld you”

Pressing his lips together he tries to stay his laughter.

“No she saved that particular threat for Maçon when he became too familiar with her, really Jeanne, I don’t think my darling Isabé has any fear.”

She narrows her eyes, the word darling slipped from his lips so easily. 

“Oh I should say she is the one for you Raymond.”

He draws in his breath and nods.  
   
“She is special Jeanne.”

“Oh Dear God Raymond de Merville is in love, shout it from the rooftop so the whole of Paris may hear”

He squeezes her hand again. “Heaven help me, but I believe I am and with a girl of twenty two who is as fearless as a lioness.”

“Have you bedded her yet?”

He frowns at her.

“Don’t play coy with me Raymond, it does not suit you”

But he does not answer one way or the other, it is no one’s business but his and Isabé’s.

“You do know that she had a lover?”

His eyes lose some of their softness.

“Yes, I already knew but she was brave enough and honest enough to tell me and there is an end to it.

“Do you know who it was?”

“I have no idea and I couldn’t care less,

Jeanne took note of the warning tone creeping into his voice and chooses to ignore it.

“I should look again at the name on the top of the list”

If that piece of information irked Raymond at all, then he didn’t show it and he tried and failed to stifle a yawn.  

“Jeanne, forgive me we have spoken for long enough, I would like to finish bathing before I resemble a prune and then I should like to sleep.”

“I understand, but I should warn you that Gervais Lavoie is a driven man, he will stop at nothing to attain the prestige and position you currently hold, oh he would dearly love to step into your shoes. He is an evil bastard and a clever one, always makes sure none of the shit sticks to him, hence Geoffroy.”

Raymond’s voice is harsh and bitter.

“I doubt he has done anything worse than either of us in our time Madam, so don’t flatter yourself that we stand on any moral high ground.”

Jeanne gulps at her own wine, the hard edge of Raymonds voice cuts deep, then undaunted she continues, spitting her words at him “No, I’m sure we don’t occupy that exalted spot but he is truly hateful, the young wife he was sent here to marry lasted less than two years. Although it was never proven, I am certain her death owed more to poison and a well-placed pillow than anything else. I wonder will his new wife last any longer, for he will stop at nothing. Have a care with him Raymond.

  
“Now, I shall wash your back for you then I will leave you be or don’t you trust yourself with me “Sieur Raymond

His answer is a curt nod and as he leans forward she takes up a cloth, wets it and pours a little soapwort liquid on to it.

Jeanne hums softly to herself as she works the cloth across his shoulders and down his back in a gentle circular motion. Dropping the cloth into the tub she begins to work her hands over him, delighting in the feel of his skin beneath her fingers as she tries to ease the knots from his muscles and she feels rather than hears the rumbling groan in his chest as he begins to relax.

“Thank you Jeanne” Raymond shifts, leans back again and flashes a rueful smile.  
“I sometimes forget just how old and creaky I’m becoming.”

“You?” her voice is low and smokey. “Oh Raymond not you, never you,” Pulling off her veil she shakes her head to loosen her thick auburn curls rakes her fingers through them then sits balanced on the edge of the tub.

His eyes are glittering and full of amusement as she shuffles nearer and leans forward to idly trace the fingers of her right hand along his collar bone, down his water slick chest.

“Bitch” he hisses out the word as she scrapes her fingers across his nipple. Neither of them has let their gaze slide from the other and Raymond’s mouth twists into a lecherous smirk as Jeanne lets her fingers snake farther and down. The moment they dip below the water Raymonds own fingers close around her wrist in a vice like grip and he tuts at her.

“Jeanne, oh Jeanne, surely you know better than to start something with me that you are not prepared to finish” He eyes her with such a hot, lascivious stare that she shivers, her eyelids flutter and as she leans in to kiss him, everything else in the room slides away.

There is no subtlety here, she wants him and with her hands braced one either side of his head she grips the edge of the tub and leans farther in. He twines his fingers through her hair, using it to pull her towards him. Mouths wide and hot, hard feverish kisses are returned and exchanged as tongue slides against tongue. Raymond sets his hands to her sides now, high enough that he can brush his thumbs back and forth beneath the curve and swell of her breasts. With his long fingers he cups the right, squeezing the firm flesh, pinching the nipple hard between finger and thumb then pulling it. As he does so she gasps and he rakes his teeth over her lower lip, hauls her closer slides his left hand down to her arse. She melts into him, and he senses that her grip on the tub has relaxed. One more gentle pull and with a yelp of surprise and indignation she flops forward, twists and falls into the warm water.

Jeanne finds herself sitting in Raymond’s lap, her legs dangle over the side of the tub and she winces as the narrow edge bites into the backs of her knees.

Face flushed, her eyes pop wide, brows fly upwards, whilst with lips pressed tightly together Raymond works hard to stifle a laugh and he watches with amusement as the varied emotions of surprise, indignation and anger flit across her face. All the while her gown is soaking up the water.

Suddenly she begins to laugh, it begins as a chuckle and grows to a full throated roar.  
   
“You bastard Raymond, you sly, devious, underhand, treacherous, bastard. 

He hugs her to his chest and drops a kiss to the top of her head. “We are not meant for each other Jeanne, we never were. We took comfort and solace in each other’s arms and each other’s beds when we needed to that is all, no ties, no agreements and no regrets.”

Raymond steadies her as she wriggles and squirms in her effort to escape from the tub. Once on solid ground she stares unashamedly at him and licks at her lips as he rises from the water, it streams down his muscular thighs, darkening the hairs, droplets catch and sparkle in the thatch of black hair surrounding his far from erect cock. Raymond had succeeded most admirably in steeling himself against Jeanne’s ministrations.  
   
“Well I sincerely hope dear Raymond,” she nods at his crotch and sniggers. “That Isabé’s attentions have a more favourable effect on that particular part of your anatomy.”

 “Oh never fear for me on that account Jeanne, I think that with little effort Isabé could raise the very dead and I am far from that” 

Water drips from her gown and pools around her feet.

“Such a shame I shan’t be nearby to hear you explain the state of your dress”

“Oh I won’t bother to explain Raymond, it takes too much effort and truly, with two exceptions I have never cared what others think of me.”

“Two?”

As he steps from the water she hands him one of the large linen drying cloths and he wraps it around his waist.

“Yes you and Alain, the only people whose advice and opinion I would ever bother to seek.”

“Then I am honoured Jeanne, Alain was a good and honest man.”

Jeanne feels her throat tighten and can only whisper.

“Yes Raymond, he was, as are you.”  
   
Turning swiftly on her heel she strides across the room but before leaving she pauses just long enough to press her fingers to her lips and blow a kiss to him. 

Raymond’s eyes follow the trail of water and wet footprints to the door and he chuckles to himself.

“She has never changed and I hope to God she never does”

Still wrapped in the drying cloth, he settles his long frame onto the narrow bed. With arms folded behind his head he arches his back, stretches, yawns and with a gentle smile playing around his lips his eyes flutter closed.

The last thing he remembers thinking is how perfect it felt to hold Isabé in his arms the morning he left Rouen.


	17. Chapter 17

Dogs and soldiers, they sleep in almost same way and Raymond is no exception, for once he has settled he simply dozes for most of the time and only drifts into deep sleep for short periods. Still, when he finally wakes he fells refreshed, clear headed and ravenously hungry. Guillaume has returned at least twice during the last few hours, once with Raymonds scabbard, sword and leather poldrons and again to bring back the mail hauberk and helm which now hang clean and shining on the stand in the corner of the room. He has also removed the tray of food but left the wine.

Each time Guillaume entered, Raymond had had been aware of it but he hardly stirred, merely opening his eyes just enough to keep a watch on his Squire. He hated the feeling that he could no longer truly trust him, it pained him deeply, but he pushed it away knowing he would do whatever needed to be done.

Arms raised and folded behind his head, Raymond forces his body into a long, arching stretch. Muscles protest, joints creak and grate and he winces a little as he feels the weight of every one of his 47 years. He keeps himself fit, but even so the years of hardship and injuries sustained in war have started to take their toll.

**_“One last time, Philip just one last fucking time, then I go back to Rouen for good and you can find someone else.”_ **

With a long deep sigh he relaxes down into the soft mattresses and lays quietly. A smile plays on his mouth and brightens his face as he reflects on how pleasant it will be to wake with Isabé, to hold her in the circle of his arms, kiss her good morning, and then make love to her with sweet and exquisite slowness. As he flutters his eyes closed again he can feel her there, her body moulded against his.

Freeing his right hand from behind his head he slides it slowly down over his chest, ribs and the flat plane of his belly, down further through the thatch of dark hair. Imagining all the while that it is Isabé’s gentle, slender fingers stroking over his skin, closing her hand around his hardening cock and setting up a slow deliberate rhythm. With each stroke of his own hand his breath hitches, his balls twitch and tighten as he sees the pictures in his mind and watches. Strands of her hair slide forward as she dips her head to brush a delicate sweep of her tongue to the tip before she parts her soft moist lips.

His reverie is shattered by the sound of a fist pounding on his chamber door, he lets out a long tormented growl and tips his head back on the pillow, the moment is lost.

**_“Sweet Christ, let me be home soon!”_ **

“You’re a sluggard Raymond de Merville, it is past midday and we have much to discuss, if you aren’t out from under your covers by the time I cross your chamber floor I’ll haul you out myself.”

The voice carries easily through the thick wooden planks and Raymond knows that Jeanne might well make good her word but ignores her anyway.

Suddenly the door is flung wide with such a force that it rattles on its hinges and thuds against the inside wall of the chamber. Jeanne Beauchene sails into the room her veil wafting and the skirts of her elegant gown billowing around her as she strides determinedly towards the bed.

Guillaume follows her and it is only by virtue of some skilful footwork that he avoids being walloped by the door, as it rebounds and swings back towards him. Thankfully, the tray he is carrying its contents, his face survive intact and he slips into the room.

“Madam” Raymond cracks open one brilliant blue eye and glares at her “You seem determined in choosing the most inappropriate moments to visit me.” There is no anger in his voice only a little weariness and a smile is already forming on his mouth.

Ignoring him she plonks herself down on the edge of the bed.

He grabs at the linen drying cloth re-wraps it and tucks it securely around his waist.

“Hmmm now that is a something to gladden the heart of a poor widow, a very agreeable sight indeed.” Eyes wide and with a distinct leer plastered across her face she stares deliberately at Raymond’s groin. The massive erection he is still sporting distinctly visible as it presses against the thin fabric. “If I thought for one moment that this," she purrs at him “is for my benefit dear Raymond, I should be most flattered but alas.” She presses her right palm to her breast. “I’m sure it is not.

Raymond’s smile turns to a fake withering look. 

“Oh you can be certain of that Madam. Now why have you come to annoy me again?”

“Miserable ingrate, the office of Sext has already been conducted and seeing that you couldn’t be bothered to come down and eat, I’ve had food brought for you.” Jeanne laughs at him, he had almost forgotten how sweet and musical that sound was and it brought a genuine, fond smile to his face, she smiles back at him and for a moment the only sounds in the room are those of Guillaume laying out food for Raymond.

“Forgive me Sieur, I did not wish to disturb you earlier, so I have chamber maids ready now to empty the bathing tub”

“It can wait Guillaume, do it later”

"But Siuer." 

"Leave it Guillaume, it has been there for several hours a little longer will make no difference." Raymond snaps, his voice harsher than he meant it to be. As Guillaume saunters past the tub he glances at the cold, grey, scummy water, wrinkles his nose and shudders slightly, his sensibilities clearly offended.

"As you wish Sieur." He gives a stiff little bow and stomps from the room.

Shifting on the bed Raymond shuffles higher up onto the pillows and sighs, "I hope I can make that boy see sense and drag him out of the shit hole he is digging himself into."

"I hope so too but that's for later Raymond, as for now, you may need to make your move quickly and I mean very quickly."

"With regard to the second name on the list?"

"Yes, I haven't seen him for most of the morning but that man does very little without a reason so I can only assume he is up to no good. Is it difficult to reconcile yourself to Geoffroy being your enemy Raymond,”

"Not at all" the corners of his mouth drop and he shrugs "What about Theo?" he asks

"You have your instructions?"

"Yes if possible I am to leave him be, at least for now.”

"Then leave him be, he is not your concern." 

As he frowns at her, a deep creases forms and shoots up between his knitted brows.

"So who is to take care of him?"

"I have no idea,” Raymond watches her face, her expression is impassive but she is lying and he knows it. 

The tack is changed as Jeanne asks if he has a plan.

"Indeed and a very simple one, I find they are invariably the best, but before that, I shall, as instructed by the King pay court to a rather attractive young Widow.

“Ahh sweet Raymond, it will be my pleasure, I shall enjoy being the object of your affection”

Her laugh echoes around the room as she adds “But I know I shall be cast aside like an old shoe once you have completed your business for the king, I shall be a maiden bereft” She flutters her eyelashes at him and sighs dramatically.

His answer is a withering, “Hardly bereft and certainly not a maiden”

“You miserable cur Raymond.” a gentle hand settles lightly on his thigh and she becomes suddenly very serious.

 “Raymond I must tell you that I too am tasked by the King concerning this matter.” For a moment Jeanne cannot meet his look and glances at her hands. “You are effectively......” she hesitates “I mean it is my responsibility to ensure your safety my friend”

“You, for God’s sake why?” he spits out and although he has a deep admiration and respect for Jeanne, he is unable to conceal the irritation in his tone and the room suddenly feels a little cooler, a shiver runs through him and as he frowns at her she responds with a tight, sad little smile.

 “Damn Phillip, he certainly knows how to arrange things and he certainly knows, in fact probably ordered you to tell me.” A single harsh laugh, fast and viscous as a whiplash cracks out of his mouth “So I had best take care for he knows I would never deliberately endanger you Jeanne.”

 “Arrogant Arse, I may have spent my time lounging at court or mouldering in the country lately but I have not forgotten my skills.”

** "Je ne suis pas un putain d'idiot, ne me traite pas comme tel. Je pourrais te fouetter le cul si je le voulais.ˮ her voice is harsh and grating she is angry.

Sliding his large hand beneath hers he lifts it from his thigh, twists and turns it from side to side as if examining the small slender fingers.

“My apologies Jeanne, I meant no disrespect and certainly would rather put my faith in _you_ as my Guardian Angel than in something more ethereal.”

“Who would know,” he whispered “That these slight elegant fingers which can give a man such pleasure, could also squeeze the life breath from him” his eyes are half closed as if he is remembering something,  then he opens them fully, fixes his gaze on hers and draws the back of her hand to his lips for a soft kiss.

Jeanne slides from the edge of the bed and smiles down at him “Time to get your backside moving Old Man, we can talk and eat whilst you dress” she winks and leers at him, “ I shall enjoy this, it’s been a while since I had a man who was  worth looking at within arm’s length”

“Trust me Jeanne,” he gives her the broadest smile and shakes his head. “Looking is all you will be doing.”

“So what of Eleanor” she changes tack again.

“What of Eleanor?” he snaps back at her “She is not your business!”

“I just wondered, if she was still at the Chateau”

“Jeanne, why ask a question to which you already know the answer”

“So is she to be your distraction when you tire of your country maid?” he catches her wink but is still not amnused.

“Don’t press me too hard,” the warning note in his voice is very clear “she is there because she is the Mother of my child and is deserving of respect including from you.” Just for a moment, his eyes flash cold anger but it dies as quickly as it flared. “Nicolette needs her mother and I want Nicolette near me” Fondness and love soften his features now, “I will not send them away”

“You are besotted by that child” there is a faint note of mockery in her tone.

“Quite possibly but she is my flesh and blood and she is brave, clever and a delight.”

An unladylike snort escapes Jeanne. “Oh there is no possibly about it, I can tell by that ridiculously foolish smile on your face, she has twisted you round her little finger and holds you tighter than a hawks jesse”  

He seems to unfurl himself from the bed and stands before her, without a second thought she lays her hand above his heart, the tip of her tongue pokes between her lips as she trails her fingers downwards stroking through the hair on his chest, then down again until she curls them over the edge of the cloth wrapped around his waist. Eye holds eye, blue and hazel locked together.

“You and I Raymond, we could........”

“We could not,” he grips her wrist firmly and prises her hand away “I believe I said you were limited to looking”

“Ah well, no matter.” With a huff and a shrug of her shoulders Jeanne steps back from him and he strolls into the smaller room to fetch the key to the chest from its hiding place. As he lifts the lid the scent of dried herbs drifts into the room.

He is quite well aware that whatever garments he chooses will doubtless be considered unfashionable and outmoded. But for Raymond clothing is for modesty and for protection from the elements or weapons as for being fashionable that has never interested him.  As he dresses he snatches bites of food, and a mouth full of wine and Jeanne watches him seemingly dispassionate.

 **“ _Isabé you are indeed fortunate, Sweet Christ here is a man who can bring a woman such pleasure.”_** and for a moment her eyes flutter closed as she remembers.

Raymond dons braies and ties on his chauses, and undershirt, dark tunic and lastly the murrey coloured surcoat with the de Mervill crest follow. Even with all the layers, his sword and heavy boots rather than soft leather shoes, he still feels almost naked, for he has no mail nor even a gambeson for protection.

As they walk through the hall, Guillaume follows just behind Raymond and Jeanne. His face is a mask of calm and studied indifference but inside he rages, for as the couple stroll along they exchange gentle looks, soft words and steal brief, tender kisses.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                             The loss of Raymond to Isabé he can bear, almost, but the thought of losing him to this woman gnaws at him. Certainly anyone watching would believe that de Merville was ready to give up the charms of his country maid, for the more sophisticated allure of a beautiful and wealthy young widow.

But no one appears to pay them much attention, except perhaps for the two men seemingly deep in conversation on the far side of the room, two men who glance at them with feigned indifference, Geoffroy Maçon and Théo Fontaine. Maçon nods and with an easy loping stride Théo makes his way across the Hall.

“Raymond de Merville, let me congratulate you, I hear that you are about to steal this delightful creature away from the rest of us.” He bows to Jeanne, “Madam, if you marry Raymond, you will leave a trail of bruised and broken hearts in your wake.” He bows takes her hand and brushes his lips against the cool skin. Internally Jeanne cringes she has never liked and never trusted Théo Fontaine.

“Ah you are most kind, Théo.” her smile is wide, practiced, and devoid of any warmth. Though born and bred in Rouen, Théo Fontaine has been fashioned and formed in Paris. His style, his manners, and his inherent viciousness have all been honed within this small world of the French Court,

 He stands almost as tall as Raymond, though as much as he might try he will never have the same commanding presence.  Clasping Raymond’s hand, he flashes him a calculating smile.

“You are a lucky dog Raymond, to capture such a beauty” Raymond extricates his hand from Théo’s slightly damp and unpleasant grip.

“Indeed I am most fortunate,” he agrees with a veneer of amiability he certainly doesn’t feel” 

“Raymond, Théo” Jeanne flashes a smile. “Please, will excuse me for a few moments, there is something I must do, would you mind if Guillaume accompanied me?”

“Of course Jeanne” he brushes a swift kiss across her cheek “Guillame, go with Madam Beauchéne I will meet with you both in the garden when you are finished”

“Thank you Raymond” for Théo there is the briefest of nods, it is a slight to him and he knows it.

Jeanne walks back down the Hall with Guillaume in tow.

“I can feel your eyes burning into me Guillaume, you and I need to talk”

She grabs his arm and pushes him through a small arched doorway, slamming the door shut behind them. One small window allows just enough light into the room for them to see each other, Jeanne rounds on him slapping him so hard his head jerks back

“You treacherous, false-hearted, Janus-faced little shit!”

“Madam, you dare.” There is no fear, only anger and his fingers curl around the hilt of his dagger

“I would not consider that course of action Bouvier” His breath stalls in his chest as he feels the point of a sharp, thin bladed knife pressing at the base of his throat. A sly smile settles on Jeanne’s lips.

“Oh don’t worry boy, if I had wanted you dead you would already be on the floor with your lifeblood seeping between the cracks in the flagstones. She stands toe to toe with him.

 “Take this as a warning, you are treading a fine line. Sieur Raymond has protected you for as long as you have been in his service, he knows you and has shown nothing but kindness and understanding and yet you repay him by betraying him.”

“I, Madame, I..............”

“You snivelling little shit, he knows what you are up to, he knows you have been reporting to someone. Who is it Guillaume, tell me or tell him that is your choice.

Guillames bravado rises again and once more his fingers curl around the hilt of his dagger.

This time the point of her dagger pierces his skin and even in this half-light she sees the colour drain from his face. “I know you don’t like me and I don’t care, but I shall tell you that I am not about to take Isabé’s place if that is of any consolation. Sieur Raymond is here to carry out an assignment for the King, our Romance is part of the subterfuge.”

Jeanne wondered if it was a risk worth taking to tell Guillaume so much. “Now boy tell me everything you know.”

Théo is a clever man or rather he is devious, sly, wholly untrustworthy and seems lacking in any morality. But his lack of scruples has served him well in his climb up the social ladder and has certainly aided his entry into exalted court circles. Whatever vile acts Théo Fontaine committed even in his own name, he seems to have done so with impunity and no taint has ever stuck to him.

For some time he was close to the King, but gradually fell out of favour, as even Philip could no longer condone his means and methods and so he was promoted sideways, a move which incensed him.

 “How are things in Rouen my friend?” Raymond frowns a little at the familiarity of a man he would never call a friend. “It is some time since I visited my old home”

“Not much changes there, Fontaine, not since Normandy was brought into the fold, although those dammed Angevins and that English idiot John are still a thorn in our side. You do know that even his own people call King John “Lackland”?”

Raymond senses a shift in Théo, sees his eyes narrow a little

“Indeed, he is not the best ruler there has ever been I’ll agree to that” he smiles, a feral sharp toothed smile. With his blue-black hair combed into the latest fashion, beard neatly trimmed, sombre clothing and eyes as blue as Raymonds he looks drab and inconsequential.

“I hear we have something, or rather someone in common, a pretty little piece who goes by the name of Isabé Pelletier.”

 Théo sees Raymond’s shoulders stiffen a little as he speaks again.

 “I feel it only fair to tell you Raymond, Isabé has very little to recommend her, too opinionated and wilful for a young woman. If you ask me, Hénri and Blanche did not administer enough discipline.”  Placing a hand on Raymond’s shoulder he leans in and whispers. “Oh she was a sweet thing, sometimes she was most amenable” he winked “I tried, God knows I tried to make her see sense and teach her some manners, but,” He shrugs “It came to nothing and of course I was packed off to Paris. “She is used goods Raymond, used goods but you are welcome to her and I doubt a man of your years can afford to be too fastidious”

With a monumental effort, Raymond keeps himself in check, his urge to kill Théo on the spot grows by the second and it takes him a moment or two to regain enough composure to respond. Théo suddenly feels uncomfortable and edgy, Raymond has never once shifted his gaze away from his adversary.

“I find Théo, that women, like horses respond better to sweet words and a soft hand. In my experience, it is much easier to gentle a young filly with kindness, rather than trying to beat her into submission. He pats Théo on the arm and smiles sympathetically “But you were ever a poor horseman and a worse trainer” Théo clenches his jaw and glares at Raymon.. “I shall give you one piece of advice Théo, don’t cross me again, if you do I shall take great pleasure in kicking your arse for the fool you are.

With that Raymond spun away.

“ ** _And if you should speak of Isabé in such terms again, I will kill you_**.”

 Raymond is in a seething temper, more than once whilst in Philips private chamber Geoffroy had tried to placate him, fearing the he might actually lay hands on the king in anger. The pair of them had been ensconced with His Majesty for over an hour, as Raymond presented his case that once he had completed his assignment, he be released from His Majesty’s tenure and be allowed to retire to a simple, married life back in Rouen.

Philip, though, amenable and willing to listen, was iron-willed and the best Raymond could draw from him was an agreement to discuss things further during the wedding festivities.

Geoffroy slides a brotherly arm around Raymond’s shoulders. “Be calm, I’m sure you can talk him round, just let it be for a while hein.”

“I need a drink Geoffroy, in fact I need a great deal of drink what do you say we cross the bridge to find somewhere suitable and enjoy an hour or two with a couple of pretty and attentive **“Ceinture Dorée?” “Is that place on **Rue du Poil-au-Con as good as ever?

Geoffroy smirked, “Hell, you have high standards Raymond that’s probably the most expensive whorehouse in the area.”

“Well you would be the man to know.” Raymond slaps him on the back. “I’m going to get so drunk and fuck so hard you’ll need to tie me to my horse to get me back here in one piece. Meet me at the stables in one hour.”

Geoffroy roars with laughter, “Ahh It’s good to see the old Raymond back my friend, one hour then, I’ll be ready.” Geoffroy strides away and, the smile of friendship slides from Raymonds lips.

**_“The plan is set, I have you now Maçon you Bastard”_ **

 

 

**”I am not a helpless fucking idiot, do not treat me as such. I could whip your arse if I wanted to.”

 

**Prostitutes were in general strictly regulated, they were only able to ply their trade between 10 pm and 8 am in Paris or 10 pm and 6 am elsewhere

** They were obliged to wear a gold (colured) belt Ceinture Dorée as a way of being identified.

** Rue du Poil-au-Con (Street of the Pubic Hair) actually existed and is now called Rue du Pélican,

 


	18. Chapter 18

Yesterday was The Lord’s Day and nothing could be done to help with the preparations for my wedding, so this morning I am itching to make a start. Naked I swing my legs out of the bed and stand next to Jehanne’s truckle, she is stretched out on her back fast asleep. I smile at the huffing and puffing of her breath as she gently snores. There’s no need to wake her, she has been working so hard and deserves the rest, yes there are tasks awaiting us both but I relish these few quiet moments. Stepping quietly around the bed I walk to the window and as I pass Jehanne, she stirs slightly, rolls onto her side wrapping her arms around her pillow and murmuring “Mathieu”

 

The three arched window is set into a deep embrasure, I lean against the cool stone, cross my arms over my breasts and look out over the waking city, the first noises of the day are already rising up from the outer ward. In Summer working days are are long, though perhaps not this one. For there is a damp feel to the gentle breeze that drifts into the room and caresses my skin. The sky is not blue today, but rather a milky grey and streaked with purple, red and a sickly greenish tint, like a fading bruise. Rain will be with us before the afternoon, I’m certain of it.

 

And what of Raymond? I close my eyes and picture him, his fierce blue eyes and handsome scarred face. I feel the scratch of his beard against my skin, his breath on my neck, the low growl in his throat as he wraps his arms around me from behind. It is so very real and I can feel the very heat of him. Is he sleeping, or is he awake and thinking of me, as I am of him? Perhaps he is already on his way home, though if I am honest I know the latter is not likely.

“Isabé, can you not stay abed a little longer?” The sound of Jehanne’s voice startles me a little and my daydream is gone.

“No there is work to do, so the sooner I start the better and I am hungry, you stay here a while if you wish.”  She groans, stretches and scowls, I know she will soon follow me.

 

I dress as quickly as I can then make my way downstairs. The Chateau is already bustling and at the far end of the hall near the screens passage, a gaggle of housemaids and younger squires are gathered around Ghislane and Fournier awaiting their instructions for the day. As I approach the clatter and commotion from the kitchen grows louder. To the unmusical accompaniment of thuds, bangs and clatters Chef Humbert DuFour bellows out orders couched in oaths and foul language to his army of staff.

 

Ghislane rolls her eyes at me then smiles broadly.

  
“Isabé, Good morning you are abroad early my dear.”

 

I laugh back at her “Yes I have much to do but first breakfast, I am so hungry”

 

“Well that is no surprise child, yesterday you ate hardly enough to keep body and soul together.”

  
I like Ghislane, she is “comfortable” and after our first unfortunate meeting we seem to have settled our differences and work well together. In spite of this she knows that very soon she will have to hand the Chatelaine’s keys and purse over to me and I can’t help but feel that it rankles with her a little.  
From the corner of my eye I see Fournier speak to one of the squires and he scuttles into the kitchen.

  
“Good morning Fournier, you are well I hope?”

  
Indeed Mam’selle and eagerly awaiting notice from Sieur Raymond as to the date for your Wedding I have done a much as I can do.”  
“Oh Fournier, I should not hold your breath, even I am not party to that information.” My words come out on a laugh. “Sieur Raymond is the kind of man likely to stride into Chateau one minute  and in the next haul me off to my own wedding without a word but I’m sure everything will be ready in time.”

  
“I wish I had your confidence isab̎é.” There is not a hint of amusement in Ghislanes voice.

  
“Your breakfast Mam’selle” The young lad who only moments ago had been despatched to the kitchen, has returned with a tray and begins to set the food out on to the nearest table.

  
“Come and Join me Ghislane, there is far too much here for me.”

  
“I have eaten, but I will sit with you.”

  
“Making sure I eat enough?”

  
“If I have to, Raymond won’t want a bag of bones in his bed nor will he wish to see you looking so tired.”

  
I pull a face at her but she ignores me and turns to the waiting housemaid.

  
“Off with you all now, you have your tasks and don’t forget I shall check everything.” With that she plonks her ample body down onto the bench. At a word from the Seneschal the squires also scatter Fournier strides back to his corner in the kitchen bidding us good day as he leaves. Even DuFour is less noisy.

  
Now that I have food in front of me I don’t want it, my appetite has disappeared. Ghislane notices and lays her hand over mine.  
“Really child, you must eat even if it is only a little, she pours water and wine into a cup and slides it towards me, a platter of soft cheese, bread and a little meat follow. To appease her I tear off a piece of the bread then set to crumbling it onto the platter as I gaze around the room at the drab dusty walls. So much to do,

  
“Mam’selle, Mam’selle Pelletier, Master Laurent the Mason is here, he wishes to speak with you.” A young lad rushes up to the table.

  
I raise my eyebrows at Ghislane she merely shrugs in reply.

  
“Then please go and fetch him, tell him I should be pleased to speak with him.”

  
“Good Morning Mam’selle” Master Laurent bows then removes his red felt hat to reveal a pristine linen coif beneath.

  
“Good Morning Master Laurent, I did not expect to see you here today, please sit and take a little wine, and some food if you wish”  
I flash him a wide bright smile that he returns straight way.

 

“Ah well it is like this Mam’selle, I got to thinking that we could help each other.” He accepts the cup of wine I offer him and takes a swallow. “You see I have some young lads, apprentices who need to learn how to set up scaffolding safely and I have paired them with some of my experienced men. Once the scaffolding is raised, they are yours to command but I can only let them stay here for three days Mam’selle. All my yards are busy and..”

 

“Of course Master Laurent, I understand and I am most grateful. If your men should need more food and ale than you have provided, then your foreman has only to ask it will be hot thirsty work today. In fact I insist that from tomorrow they are fed from our own kitchens, we have plenty and I’m sure Fournier will be most helpful.” I lean over to him and whisper “Although I suspect DuFour may not be as happy but I’m sure he can be persuaded.”

 

The moment the Master mason finishes his wine, he directs his men into the Chateau. The Mason has made good his promise to his wife. He has arrived with a dozen workmen, apprentices and time served, three ox carts loaded with scaffolding poles and ladders plus a horse waggon loaded with hand tools, smaller items of equipment, rations and ale for his men. Within minutes the Great Hall echoes and re-echoes to the sound of workmen starting their day.

 

It is late afternoon when Raymond strides away from the King’s chambers and makes his way through the Great Hall. His expression is so dark and furious that no one dares approach him. Without even breaking step as he passes Guillaume, he jerks his head to indicate that his Squire should follow. Farther down the hall, the ever watchful Descoteaux notices his Lord approaching and peels himself away from where he leans against the wall. With brief bow and a “Sieur” he falls in behind and the “Trinity” as they are known in certain circles make their way outside.

 

 

It is no less stifling in the garden than it is inside and the humid air makes the scent of the flowers heavy and nauseating.

“Was your little performance with His Majesty successful Raymond?”

 

“I hope so Jeanne, it seemed to reel Maçon in completely.”

 

For the moment everyone is quiet, suddenly Raymond turns to face Guillaume. There are still streaks and spots of blood on the boy’s throat and tunic, his face is still pale after the encounter with Jeanne and he flicks his glance back and forth between her and his Lord. When Raymond speaks his voice is low and calm as he slides his right hand to the back of his squire’s neck his long fingers firm but gentle against the boy’s skin.

 

“Guillaume, listen to me I need you to do something.”

 

“Of course Sieur” the words come out raspy, hesitant and Raymond see’s the shame in the boy’s eyes. There is something else too, a little hope, that perhaps his Lord will give him the chance to make some amends.

 

“Go back into the Hall and take a cup of wine, drink it slowly, chat with the other squires and bide your time, once you have finished seek out Sieur Maçon and deliver this message.”

  
As Raymond speaks, he moves in even closer to Guillaume, feels him tremble but keeps his hand to the back of his squire’s neck and as he gives the message, presses his forehead to the boy’s, as a father might do with a son.

 

“Sieur Raymond begs your pardon but regrets he must delay his meeting with you. He asks that you should now meet him at the Northern Sally port, he will be there one hour before curfew.”

  
“You have that Guillaume?”

 

“Yes Sieur”

 

“Good, then the moment you have delivered the message you are to make straight for my chambers lock the door and wait until I return.”

  
The air seems to grow even heavier, the sky is leaden now threating rain.

 

“But Sieur am I not to accompany you?”

 

“No, you are to do exactly as I say, you wait there until you hear from me or until you hear news of me from either Madame Beauchene or Descoteaux but no one else.  Promise me you will do this, you are in deep boy but I shall do my best to keep you safe, not least because your Father would skin me alive, providing of course your Mother did not reach me first. But it is Isabé I fear most, she would have me skinned, my hide tanned, turned into horse harness and use my balls to decorate it.”

  
A nervous laugh escapes Guillaume.

  
“Promise me” Raymond growls, he is answered with a quiet “I promise Sieur”

 

“Good, now go, deliver the message, and let me try and help you climb out of the shit hole you are in”

  
Still head to head they stand together for a moment longer.

  
“Sieur,” what do I say to him if he should ask why you are delayed?”

 

“You are to tell him I am otherwise engaged with Madame Beauchene”

 

Guillaume grins, understanding completely and strolls back inside.

 

Descoteaux and Jeanne watch quietly from where they stand beneath the arcade.

 

“You know Descoteaux, I suspect there are few people who see that side of Raymond, he keeps it so well hidden.”

 

“Indeed Madame, but for those of us who have stood with him, or who care to look closely” turning he smiles at her “We know the truth of it hein?”

 

“Indeed we do Descoteaux, indeed we do” and the smile she directs at Raymond is full of admiration, respect and yes, love.

 

Some half an hour before Raymond and Geoffroy had arranged to meet, a Merchant and his servant ride out through the main Palace gates. They rein their horses towards the Pont au Change and fifteen minutes later ride into the courtyard of the most exclusive Brothel on the Rue du Poil-au-con.

  
Raymond and Geoffroy pass through the two Sally Port doors. The wooden one is already barred and the small portcullis clatters and slides closed.

“A night of freedom Raymond, dear God it must be years since we escaped our duties together with the sole intent of getting blind drunk and fucked into oblivion. By my reckoning old friend, it would have been before you took up with the delicious Eleanor, but with her to warm your bed, why would you want to stray?”

  
Geoffroy glances sidewise at Raymond who still smiles, even though he itches to knock Geoffrey from his horse.

 

 

‘Though I confess I do feel a little guilty at dragging you from the charms of the lovely Jeanne.”

 

Raymond manages to make his laugh sound convincingly hearty. His blue eyes seem full of amusement and mischief, and Geoffroy sees in him a little of the younger Raymond.

 

“Believe me my friend, Madame is nothing if not demanding, this will be a welcome diversion”

 

“Well I hope you aren’t so spent that you can’t rise to the occasion that would be a great shame” He winks, slaps Raymond on the back and his mouth twitches as he notices that his companion has not even a gambeson beneath his tunic, the twitch turns to a smirk.

 

_**“Well that  is better than I could have hoped”** _

 

But Raymond is no fool and has not failed to notice the subtle press of Geoffroys hand and fingers on his back, the gesture of friendship held a moment too long. He knows what Maçon is about, he knows he must take care.

 

“All things lose their allure in time Geoffroy, Eleanor is put aside and I am not yet bound to Isabé so let’s stop gossiping like a couple of old maids, we’re wasting time and I have a burning need.” He makes a lewd gesture.

 

“Yes the old Raymond is definitely back amongst us” they kick their horses to a trot “But surely you’ll take a mistress, I mean once Isabé has produced an heir for you.” he tails off as Raymond looks across at him, the smile has slipped from his face.

 

“You must understand my friend that after tonight, there will be no mistress, no woman in my life other than Isabé”

  
Geoffroy roars with laughter and throws his head back so quickly that he shifts in the saddle, causing his horse to skitter a little.  Gathering his composure he reins in close to Raymond scanning his companions face closely.

  
“Well fuck me, up, down and sideways, you bastard, you mean it, you really do mean you are going to settle with the one woman?

 

“How long have you known me Maçon?”

 

“Oh twenty years or so, why do you ask?”

 

“Have I ever given you cause to doubt that I always mean what I say?”

 

Pulling the corners of his mouth down, Geoffrey considers carefully then shakes his head.

 

“No my friend, in truth not once that I can recall.”

 

“Then don’t doubt me and let’s not waste any more time.”

  
He kicks at his horse and takes off at a canter leaving Geoffroy to catch up.

  
Side by side they ride through a large archway and on into a grand courtyard. Everything is neat and orderly and it’s testament to the popularity of “La Perle Rose” supposedly the finest and “cleanest” of the brothels, that it is not so much bustling as heaving.

Reining up close to the stables they dismount quickly and two grooms dash out from the under the pentice to take charge of their mounts.

 

“Well damn me, they’re women”

 

“Well unless you’re blind Maçon it would be hard not to notice that.” Raymond shakes his head and grins, “Your senses must be failing you.”

 

The two women were both dressed in chauses, heavy boots and short red tunics which whilst they don’t accentuate their form do little to disguise it. Of the two, the taller has thick blonde hair cut in a soldier’s style, her face is round, soft and unmarked. Set below surprisingly dark brows her pale blue eyes are heavy lidded and fringed with equally dark lashes. Her mouth is generously curved and full lipped.

 

The shorter of the two has her hair tucked under a brown woollen cap, her skin is not so pale and her eyes are dark. Though her lips are a little thinner they are of a deeper colour than her companion. She waits patiently to take the reins of Raymond’s horse, he tosses them to her and with one look into those eyes he knows.

 

He keeps his back to Geoffroy and his voice low.

 

“What the hell do you think you are doing here? He growls “This is not part of the plan.”

  
He doesn’t know how Jeanne came by the uniform and doesn’t want to.

 

“Calm Raymond, Descoteaux is here too, think of us as reinforcements I just don’t trust that shit Maçon, now make a grab for me and make it look good”

 

Seizing her wrist he spins round bringing her with him, in one move he has one hand on her arse pressing her hips hard against him, with the other he squeezes and kneads at her breast. She squeals as he pinches her nipple, hard, but most of the sound is lost as he kisses her fiercely, raking his teeth over her lower lip.

 

“Will that do?” His breath is soft against her ear and she feels the movement of his lips as he smiles.

 

“Well my pretty baggage, what say you leave the horses and come join me instead we could....”

 

Before he can say any more his head snaps back as Jeanne clatters him across the face with a hefty slap.

 

“Sieur I’m sure you know the law and the rules of the house, until 10 o’clock you may not touch me.”

 

Laughing Geoffroy slaps Raymond on the back. “I doubt my friend here has had a decent fuck in a long time so you must make allowances, now give the girl a coin Raymond and leave her be.”

  
Raymond flicks a silver coin into the air and as it drops Jeanne catches it in her fist. “Thank you Sieur” with a wink she leads Voluceur into the stable.

 

“D’you think you can manage to keep your cock in your braies for a little while longer Raymond”

 

“Sod off Maçon, I’ve got a hell of an itch and I mean to scratch it.”

  
La Perle Rosé is made up of three linked properties surrounding three sides of a courtyard and the access to this “Masion de Joie” is via the large doorway of the western most building. Whilst there is no obvious security at the door, Raymond has already scanned the courtyard and spotted several likely candidates amongst the crowd.

  
They pass into a simply decorated ante room. Lanterns cast a subtle light and soft shadows onto the white painted walls. A long trestle table is set down the centre of the room and patrons help themselves from the platters of delicacies. Imported figs and dates normally reserved for use in the finest of dishes, bitter oranges and pomegranate seeds from the south, bowls of cherries and strawberries, fine cheeses and thin savoury wafers. Expensive wines brought in from the southern vineyards or further afield, the best ales and ciders, and the sweet, potent Prunella.

  
Directly opposite was yet another door, the entrance to the inner sanctum. A bell sounds, the door swings open from the other side and the Madam herself steps through.

 

Tall and stately her braided grey hair is covered by a plain white veil attached to a fillet and topped with a barbette.  She no longer dresses in the red gown, instead she is clothed in black but around her waist she still wears Ceinture dorée the mark of her youthful profession. Though she has the demeanour of a kindly nun, or a maiden aunt, her eyes warn every man there to behave himself, “La Mère Supérieure, is not a woman to be crossed. With a crash she slams the tip of her walking cane to the floor and waits for silence.  
“Welcome, the door is now open, you are Gentlemen, and I trust you will all behave as such. For those who are new to this place, it is usual for all patrons to make a “contribution” to the house, after that the lady of your choice will advise you as to her tariff. Remember your pleasure, is our pleasure, but conduct your selves well.

”  
It was rare, though not completely unheard of, that a brothel should be owned, managed and administered by the women themselves and here clearly it worked. The accommodation was well looked after, well presented and everything was neat, clean and of the finest quality. The girls themselves were held to be the healthiest and cleanest in the city.

  
In an orderly fashion they make their way into the adjoining room and the contrast could not be more marked. Although the lighting is just as subdued, the room is far more opulent. Rich hangings adorn the walls the chairs and benches are covered in cushions or draped with brightly coloured coverlets. The room is full of women, tall, short, dark, fair, all shapes, sizes and shades of skin colour sitting together talking in twos and threes or walking the room arm in arm. They seem almost oblivious to the men as they wait to be chosen. All are clothed simply and every woman wears soft red leather indoor shoes, a simple, scarlet gown, with a demure neckline, long, close fitting sleeves and the waist cinched with a Ceinture dorée.

  
“Come on you old war horse cast your eyes around, I’ve already chosen, she’s a favourite of mine” He gestures to a petite, dark haired girl with olive skin and she glides over to him a sweet smile on her face.

  
“Sieur Maçon, it is such a long time since I saw you, I was beginning to think you had forgotten me.”

 

“Ah darling Clotilde, it has only been days and in any case how could I forget you” he slides an arm around her shoulders and nuzzles her hair breathing in the scent of jasmine.

  
“Raymond, are you going to stand there all night like a dead tree?”

  
Raymond curls his hand into a lose fist against his mouth and strokes his thumb back and forth across his pursed lips. He scans the room again and there she is, standing beside a small table and looking completely unlike Isabé. Tall, stately with an abundance of rich copper hair which reaches to her lower back. Aware of his scrutiny she looks across at him and at his nod makes her way towards him. He takes her proffered hand and brings it up to his lips.

  
“Your name Mam’selle”

  
“Jocelyne Sieur and yours?”

  
“Does it matter?”

  
He sees the flash of fire in her eyes, but when she speaks her voice is low and sweet.

  
“Names are important Sieur, they raise us above the beasts and make us human, they are our history, our very selves.

 

Raymond has the grace to feel contrite and smiles. “Forgive me Mam’selle,” he kisses her fingers again “I forget my manners, my name is Raymond de Merville”

 

There is intelligence in that heart shaped face, and in the brown eyes flecked with green. Without another word he leads her upstairs as if he were escorting the Queen herself.

  
Her room is quite spacious and private with the luxury of a door and not merely a hanging drawn across the entrance. The large bed looks comfortable and is draped in a blue coverlet and with matching hangings all embroidered with fabulous, mythical beasts and strange foliage. Two highly polished wooden tables stand one each side of the bed and on the nearest is a pitcher of wine and two goblets. Brightly painted and gilded chairs are set against the wall opposite the bed foot. They are so fine that they could easily grace Philips own chamber. Between them stands an equally ornate coffer on top of which are two bowls, two ewers and a pile of neatly folded linen squares. A small window lets in the last of the evening light and a gilded lantern set into a niche above the bed gives off a soft glow.

  
She pours wine for them both and hands a beaker to Raymond.

  
“I hope it is to your liking....Raymond” she raises her glass to him, takes only a sip and sets it down again.

  
“I doubt the King himself has any finer, indeed if he has then I have never been privileged to taste it.”

  
“Thank you for the compliment.” Gently taking his glass her fingers brush and slide against his.

  
Experience tells her that on some other occasion, Raymond de Merville might choose to linger here for several hours and pay handsomely for the privilege. But she senses that tonight he is not a man to tarry, knows that part of his mind is elsewhere and she is right, when she looks into his eyes they are dark and hard.

  
“Jocelyne,” stepping closer he snakes his arm around her waist “As fascinating as the subject of this wine may be, I am not here to debate its merits”. Long fingers splayed wide he slides his hand down over her backside drawing her into him, pressing his body into hers staring into her eyes.

  
Jocelyne shudders.

  
“What is your pleasure Sieur?” She presses herself up against him, winds her arms around his neck and softly kisses his jaw. Raymond’s eyes narrow as he fists his right hand into her hair pulling it slightly to make her turn her face upwards, his other hand sets a slow steady stroking of calloused fingers down the soft skin of her throat, tracing the curve of her breast, cupping his hand around it, feeling the weight in his palm and the hardening of her nipple as he strokes it through the thin fabric of her dress. She is surprised by the delicacy of his touch the softness of his kiss.

Her mouth tastes of cardamom, cloves and the wine she has just drunk and her hair is full of the scent of rosemary. Jocelyne skims her delicate hands over his clothing allowing the lightest touch to ghost over his groin smiles against his lips, then whispers.

  
“You have a fire in your belly and an ache in your balls Sieur Raymond, let us see what can be done to remedy that.”

  
It is his permission to let slip the beast and his next kiss is neither soft nor sweet. She feels his frustration and the deep hunger and knows he will feed like ravening animal until he is sated.

  
Hands.  Hands clawing, lifting, grabbing, twisting. Clothes, boots and shoes discarded, abandoned, a toppled chair, bed-covers awry pushed to the floor.

  
He takes and takes and yet she gives more. Every scratch, bite and thrust. Red and bleeding tracks across his back and shoulders where she has raked the skin away, there are dark purple marks speckled with red on his chest, abdomen and back, all are matched and better matched by those on her own body, He can taste his own blood in his mouth and knows it is mingled with hers.

  
As he frees his fingers and mouth from between her thighs and crawls up the bed to bury himself inside her, he doesn't know and cares less whether her howls and moans are genuine. There is no mercy.

  
Eyes screwed shut he tilts his head back and growls with each thrust, yet when he opens them again, he sees Isabe's face on the pillow her pale hair spread around and he cannot bear it. When he speaks his voice is a savage snarl.

  
"Onto your belly, NOW! He digs his fingers into her flesh and hauls her over slapping her hard across her arse. "On your knees."  With his right hand he grips her hip, his left hand the twines and twists in her hair pulling her head back. Sweat slicks their skin, their breathing is rapid. Jocelyne feels the change of his rhythm and as Raymond slams into her again and again his growls change to a roaring crescendo. She clenches around him making him tremble and shudder, finally spent he lays his chest along her back, his cheek pressed against her damp skin.

  
They sleep for a little while and when Raymond wakes he is on his back and she is curled against him. "Forgive Joscelyne I had not intended........." she cuts in seeing the broken look of him.

  
"Sieur Raymond, we gave and we took, flesh heals, and the body recovers"

  
_**“But the mind is a different matter Raymond,you need help to heal yours”** _

  
She rises from the bed to fetch him a basin of water and a cloth. They wash and as he dresses Raymond catches her staring at his boots, she has noticed that inside each one is a small Quillon safely hidden in a leather sheath.

  
"Raymond you know you are honour bound not to bring weapons into this house?"

  
"I am on the King's business, it does not always go hand in hand with honour" his voice is brusque." Now where is Clotilde’s room?" He drops a sizeable bag of coins onto the bed.

  
"Across the hall and two doors to the left"

  
“Good night Mam’selle Jocelyne” he strides to the door hesitates, steps back towards her, cups his fingers under her chin. Once again he is the gentle Raymond as he brushes his lips against hers.

  
"Forgive me" and he is gone.

  
“Maçon” Raymond hammers on Clotilde’s door “We should be leaving get your arse out here."

  
"Oh go fuck yourself de Merville I'm not done here and besides I’m nowhere near pissed enough.”

  
"Ten minutes Maçon, ten minutes, I'll meet you at the stables"

  
It is almost 20 minutes before a slightly unsteady Geoffroy ambles across the yard, he does not recognise Descoteaux, lounging just outside the door or notice Jeanne carrying pails of water for the horses and there is no sign of Raymond.  
“Raymond, you arse where are you? He steps into the dimly lit stable.

  
“I am waiting for you Maçon, you traitorous Bastard, this will give me the greatest of pleasure”

  
Raymond grips his dagger the way a mason holds a chisel and executes a rapid downward thrust.  Unarmed Maçon tries to block the blade, but misjudges and is cut deep across the palm of his right hand, unlike Raymond he has not donned gloves. The slicing cut will make it almost impossible to grip the dagger he extracts from his own boot, so he tosses it into his left.

  
Eyes accustomed to the light the two combatants circle each other and a strange smile settles on Geoffroy’s lips as they move in a dangerous dance. Slicing upwards and downwards thrusts are blocked and blocked again as they part and come together time after time. The two are evenly matched even though Geoffroy holds the dagger in his left hand.

  
“I will kill you, the King demands it.” Raymonds voice is a low, even and cold.

  
“And you are the King’s Assasin, but I am not done yet de Merville” Maçon dodges in quickly and winces slightly at the sting of the wound as he furls his cut hand into a fist, drops his right shoulder slightly and slams into Raymond’s stomach.. The force sends Raymond backwards and before he can right himself a punch to the jaw sends him reeling. As he drops he is grabbed, hauled up and spun back against a hard muscled chest and he takes in a deep breath as an arm clamps vice like across him and a knife point presses against his throat.

  
Already there is a gathering crowd, from the corner of his right eye he sees Jeanne seemingly relaxed but knows she is ready to launch an attack if needed and though he cannot pick out Mathieu he supposes he is close by.

  
“You won’t win Old Man, you’re a spent force.” Geoffroy’s voice full of triumph, rasps against his ear.

  
Releasing his breath slowly and quietly like a horse adjusting to a tight girth, Raymond hopes to gain some easement from the grip. He relaxes, squirms, claws at the arm. His adversary laughs and over confident forgets basic rules drummed into the greenest novice, never lose your temper, never let anything draw you from your purpose. Distracted by noise, Maçon loses concentration, shifts a little and Raymond takes advantage of the merest slackening of grip. He drops his head forward slightly, jerks it back quickly connecting with jaw and as he steps a little to the side he slams an elbow hard back into Geoffroy’s gut.

  
“Hold, hard put up your weapons” two of the house guards try to enter the stables. Descoteaux calmly steps in front of them.

  
“Gentlemen, this is the King’s business, let it run for you have no authority here”

  
“Move, you prick before I slice you”

  
Undeterred Mathieu stands firm.

  
“One more step my friends and it will be your last” he begins to draw his sword but the fight is not finished. 

  
“You bastard Maçon” A bubbling scream rips into the air, but it comes from Geoffroy, Raymond has his man and his dagger is buried hilt deep into him, thrust upwards as far as it will go. With both hands Raymond twists the dagger round before pulling it out. Geoffroy sinks down and falls forward, blood and stomach contents pouring from the wound and pooling on the floor.

  
Raymond cries out “Descoteaux, to me!”

  
Jeanne reaches him first hauls off her over tunic and balls it against Raymond’s side, where the blood is seeping through his clothes too fast for her liking.

 

“Sweet Christ Raymond, we need to get you back press this tight against yourself” she was hoping, praying that the wound was not too deep but there was no way of knowing until they got him to the Palace.

 

“I need something to tie this tightly against you Raymond”

  
“Here” he pats at a slight lump under his clothing  “Underneath!”

  
Jeanne works her fingers under the neck of his tunic and pulls out a piece of crumpled, grubby cloth and she shakes it out. She realises it is a large veil, large enough to cover very long hair.

  
“Isabe’s?”

  
Raymond nods, “Yes but tear it if you have to.”

  
She does, re-joining the two strips into one length and binding it tightly around him securing the pad made from her tunic.

  
“For Fuck’s sake Mathieu” she hisses, “Get those damned horses saddled, two will do, you ride ahead and lead my horse, I’ll mount up behind Raymond and try to keep the old bastard from bleeding to death.”

  
Raymond manages a weak laugh. “Don’t be preparing a Mass for me just yet you baggage”

  
“You two” she halts beside the house guards “Get rid of that piece of shit, you will be well rewarded.”

  
She helps Raymond into the saddle then Gathering the reins in her left hand, mounts up behind him. She slides her right over Raymond’s fingers.

  
“I’ll get you back safely my friend just keep talking.”

 

  
“Yes, Yes I’m coming for God’s sake.”

  
I hear Jehanne grumbling at the sound of someone hammering on my chamber door.

  
“What is ..........”

  
“Mam’selle Mercier, please wake Isabé”

  
There is no mistaking the Baron’s voice, he waits outside as I dress in just a robe.

  
Jehanne shows him in then pours two cups of wine. His face is grey, his hair awry and it is clear has dressed quickly.

  
“Isabé, I have news of Raymond.”

  
I feel as if my blood boils and freezes at the same time.


	19. Chapter 19

“Not so far now Raymond, it won’t be long.”

Raymonds only answer is a grunt of pain. Jeanne sits the horse behind him, arms wrapped around his waist, but the reins are in her hands not his and progress is slow. By the time they ride into the upper courtyard Descoteaux is already waiting for them. He steps forward quickly to discretely aid Raymond and also to shield him, for the fewer who know of this the better. A groom runs up to take charge of the horse Mathieu, dismisses him.  
“I will call when you are needed.”

Raymond dismounts first, with an effort he brings his right leg over Voluceur’s neck. It seems to take him forever before he slides down in an ungainly fashion trying to keep his right arm clamped across his body. As his feet hit the floor he wavers, slides a look at Mathieu and panting, leans back against his horse for support. Jeanne slips her arm around his waist.

“Lean against me ” Jeanne presses as hard into his right side as she can trying to help hide the seeping blood. He dare not remove his hand it gives extra pressure to help staunch the flow.

“His Majesty has been informed Madame and his personal Physician is already making his way to the chamber, I have instructed Guillaume to assist him. I have also taken the liberty of sending a message to the Baron.”

“Thank you Mathieu, now you will need to help me get this big lump of an idiot to his chamber” she winks at him.

In spite of the situation Mathieu smirks, Madame Beauchene is a hell of a woman to have near when you are in a bind.

Raymond is beginning to feel weak and tired. He cannot think straight, when he enters the building the heat makes him dizzy and nauseous. With Descoteaux’s arm around his shoulders and Jeanne’s around his waist, Raymond stumbles his way through the Great Hall of the Palace. As he lurches about he looks like nothing more than a drunken Lord being helped to bed by his Captain and a servant. The blood continues to seep through the pad though not as freely now and Jeanne with her hair still tucked into the cap keeps her head low to keep a check on it and to try and remain unrecognised.

  
Monseigneur, how badly hurt is Raymond?” I stand there hair loose, feet bare and I shiver even though it is warm.

The Baron twists his mouth, “I have no details, l know only what I have told you, perhaps we shall have another message soon.” he shrugs, lifting his hands in that all-encompassing gesture

My heart sinks. “Let us hope so, have you sent someone to inform Eleanor that Raymond is injured?”

“Eleanor,” he hesitates. “Why should I……” I cut him short.

“Shall I say why you did not send to her Monseigneur? It is because she was his Mistress and now to you she is of little consequence.”

“Isabé,” He is tired and anxious, his voice growls out at me. “You are soon be married to my Son, it is only right you should be informed before anyone else.”

I glare up at him and snap back. “Yet you chose to forget she is also the mother of Raymonds acknowledge child, the child that is your Granddaughter, that alone should afford her some courtesy and consideration.” He could not fail to hear the bite of anger in her voice. “Dear God, men are such fools, sometimes you can never think beyond what is in front of your nose.”

He does not answer me.

I bend to lace my shoes. “Well if you won’t tell her, I shall” Brushing past him I cross to the door, “Raymond will not think well of you for this Monseigneur.”  
I let the door slam behind me.

Jehanne and the Baron eye one another for a moment. “Was she always such a firebrand?”

“Always Monseigneur Baron.”

Smiling he shakes his head. “Then God help my son, but Isabé is right of course.”

“If you will allow me to say Monseigneur Baron, judging by what we have already seen of how your Son deals with Isabé, I don’t think he will require any assistance, Divine or otherwise. He has her measure.”

The mood lightens, eyes sparkling and crinkling with amusement the Baron laughs out loud. “Indeed so, Mam’selle, indeed so, but let us not forget she has his measure also, there will be interesting times ahead when he returns” 

His voice tails away, his unsettled thoughts that Raymond might not return, hang between them and Jehanne catches his mood.

“Forgive my boldness Monseigneur but if the situation was that desperate, you would already know I think.”

Yesterday’s rain has come to little, the air is even more humid and as I race across the courtyard I hold my skirts high above the small clouds of dust that rise at my feet. I’m fuming that the Baron did not have the grace and kindness to send word to Eleanor and I must speak with her before rumour and gossip reach her ears. Then I find myself smiling.

Of course it may be that Eleanor with all her “connections” already knows the news but if that were the case, wouldn’t she have been hammering at my door long before the Baron?

The door to Eleanor’s chambers is on the first floor of the tower.  
  
“Eleanor, Eleanor.” My rapid but gentle knocking on her door has no effect.

“Eleanor. Let me in for God’s sake” Twice more I bring my fist hard down against the door, and am just about to deliver a third thump when I hear someone moving about, the key turns in the lock and the door swings in.

It seems that she has just risen from her bed, wisps of stray hair stick out from an otherwise neat braid and she is wrapping a loose robe around herself, tying it with simple cord. With bare feet and a face that is “sleep soft” she stands tall and with more elegance and poise than I have seen in most noblewomen dressed in their finest gowns.

“Isabé?” she blinks rapidly and frowns “What is it, what brings you here at this hour?”

“Forgive me Eleanor, may I come in?”

“But of course, what can I do for you Isabé?” she steps aside to let me enter and searches my face. “My God you look terrible, are you ill?” Eleanor is never one to shirk from telling the truth I only admire her for that and smile.

“No I am quite well, but I have news of Raymond, he has been injured, forgive me if I am telling you something which you already know”

I look directly at her, there is not the slightest flicker on that beautiful face to suggest she is already in possession of the information.

“I don’t know how ill he is, whether his wounds are slight, or even if they are fatal” I find myself twisting my gown in my fingers. “But certainly someone sent a message to the Baron.” I draw breath, “But he didn’t see fit to tell you, so I told him plain that I would.”

“Please”, Eleanor  gestures towards the largest chair “sit down.” Too agitated to be still, I pace back and forth in front of her, then spin around to face her.

“I should go to Paris, to Raymond, I can easily have Athène saddled up, she has the strength and speed of her sire Voluceur and could easily make the journey, it would be no trouble for her. I could take Jehanne with me. I need to be there Eleanor, to see for myself, to see that he will recover.”

I try to keep any note of desperation and whining from my voice but my words tumble out as a testament to my fears.Then I suddenly realise how much I have missed Raymond. and it is like a blow to the stomach.

I resume my pacing, she allows me three passes before she grabs at my wrist, holds me fast and steps in front of me.

“Isabé, Isabé.” She takes my hands now and speaks in a soothing tone.

“Take a moment to think, be sensible, you could not ride there with just Jehanne, if not for safety, then at least for propriety. You would need to take some of the Barons men with you and how long do you think it would take? Over long distances they hardly ever break from a walk.”

“I can do it Eleanor, you know I can.”

Her features harden a little and frown lines show on her forehead.

“Raymond is a soldier, he can stay in the saddle for 8 hours and more. Don’t be so damned stupid, with the best will in the world Isabé, your tender arse wouldn’t withstand that. You’d be saddle sore before you reached Les Andelys.

My words are biting. “Eleanor, you are not my Mother.”

“No, Isabé I would not presume, but the fact remains it is an ill thought out plan, I know Raymond and I know how things must be done, he would not wish you to go to Paris”

I scowl at her “How dare you tell me what Raymond would and would not wish me to do you were never anything but his Wh……”

The word dies on the “O” of my pursed lips, her face registers nothing and I feel ashamed of my sharp tongue.

“Whatever the circumstances Isabé, remember I know Raymond well and for good or ill that is simply the way it is.”

With an elegant wave of her hand she gestures towards the largest most comfortable chair.

I slump down and perch on the edge of the seat. It irritates me deeply that I have shown such emotion in front of Eleanor and my anger flares to the surface

“Why are you doing this Eleanor, what is driving you to be nice to me?”

Without hesitation she answers.

“Because I see no point in wasting my efforts on something I cannot change,” her eyelids flutter closed for a second and she adds quietly “And because I Love Raymond.” eyes open now she stares straight into my soul, yet here is no hint of a threat or challenge in her words when she adds.  
“ And I will always love him, There it is said .” I have no answer.

She pours a little wine and some water into two cups. A faint scent of beeswax and lavender hangs in the air and for the first time I glance around the room. It is exquisite, tasteful, nothing remotely gaudy or vulgar from the white linens and rich green coverlet on the bed, to the polished wood of the furniture.

“Drink this Isabé”

When I look up to take the cup from her she is watching me with a slight smile on her face.

“Yes, I am most fortunate, Raymond has provided well for Nicolette and me.”

“No Eleanor, it is as it should be that Raymond supports and maintains you and Nicolette, no one should begrudge you that” I concede adding “You are his Family.”  She shakes her head slowly and smiles

“You are a strange one Isabé, you seem to have accepted so easily who and what I once was?”

“Because like you I see no virtue in wasting effort on things I can’t change. Yes you are part of Raymond’s life, you have loved him for 5 years probably longer and have admitted you love him still, nothing can alter that no matter what happens.”

The barest flicker of emotion passes across her face but it is enough to make me realise just how much she loves him.

“Oh what the Hell am I to do Eleanor? Not knowing will drive me insane I am not naturally patient and I can’t just stand idly by.”

“Do you really wish to be advised by me Isabé?”

“I would not ask otherwise..”

Eleanor draws a second chair close to mine.

“You will weather this and I am sure there will be more messages soon to set your mind at rest.”

Then her eyes grow a little hard and the soft look slides from her face.

“No doubt Raymond finds many of your traits both amusing and endearing, but what he needs is a strong wife, a woman who can run this household, not some giddy girl running around with her hair stuffed into a head cloth and her skirts hitched to her knees. You have spirit Isabé, put it to good use.”

Her tone is harsh and I bridle at it, if I were a dog you would see my hackles rise and my lips curl.

“Raymond would not mind” I almost snarl at her, then my mouth settles into a pout as I huff and stare at my hands, much indeed probably all,  of what she says is true and I know it.

“You must never forget that Raymond de Merville is more than the just son of a moderately wealthy Baron. He is a powerful and important man in his own right, a man held in great regard by the King.  You are soon to be his wife, a future Baroness so from now you must begin to conduct yourself as such.  
Frowning, head down, I pick at my fingers.

“Continue to prepare for your wedding, but do so not as a serving girl but as the wife to be of Raymond de Merville, as a woman of grace and dignity”

A small, sleepy voice drifts down the stairs. “Maman, Maman.”

“I’m down here my darling” Nicolette presses close to the wall of the stairway dragging her hand along it as she steps down from the chamber above.

“Awake so early Little Sparrow.?” The child nods and rubs at her eyes.

“I heard you talking.”

It’s Isabé come to visit”

Sweet Nicolette, so like Raymond, she smiles shyly “Hello Isabé.”

Then as children are wont to do and before I can answer her, she quickly changes tack and looks at me with the candid expression of a five year old, wide eyed and knowing.

“You are going to marry my Papa” It is not a question and the mouthful of wine I have just taken lodges in my throat, I cough and splutter feeling the burn as some of it travels up my nose.

What can I say but “Yes?”

“Can I come to the wedding?”

“Hush Nicolette, we shall have to see about that.” Eleanor hauls the child onto her knees, where she settles and sets to twisting her mother’s braid between her fingers.

“How many know about Raymond Isabé?”

Shrugging at her I answer

“As far as I know I think only we two, the Baron and Jehanne.”

“Then that is how it should remain, we must hope for the best, lay up prayers against the worst and God willing Raymond will be home very soon. Just be calm Isabé like the swan on the water.”

I rise to leave, Eleanor sets Nicolette down and stands beside me.

“Thank you for the wine and for your advice but Master Laurent will be arriving soon and I need to speak with him, not to mention Fournier and Hubert Dufour.” I roll my eyes

“Then speak to them as Mistress of the Chateau and not a serving maid, remember dignity and grace, they will respect you all the more for that.”

Taking both my hands in hers she leans forward and press a kiss to one cheek then the other.

“Raymond chose well when he chose you Isabé, he chose very well indeed.”

“Oh and I wish you the greatest of luck with DuFour” she grins at me.

I leave her chambers thinking if ever Raymond chose to take a Mistress again, I would much rather it was Eleanor Forrestier than any other woman.

The moment that Isabé closes the door, Eleanor crosses the room, slides her hand beneath her pillow and draws out a small cylinder. Originally there were two, but first sent by Descoteaux is already in the Baron's  possession.

This second contains two scraps of parchment, she removes them and reads again.

1**R vivant, GM mort. Protégez Isabé. ”J

2**De R, ne permet pas à isabe de venir ici. J

“Only for you would I keep her safe Raymond, only for you” and she presses her lips to the message.

By the time they deliver Raymond to his chamber, Guillaume, the King’s Physician and even the King himself are waiting there.

“Hold him steady, Ambroise Martel the Physician is not a venerable old man, indeed with his clear face and brilliant blue eyes he looks remarkably young. but his tone is one of autority.  He is small, shorter than Raymond by at least a foot, but broad, stocky and physically strong.

Prising Raymond’s clamped, blood stained fingers away from he binding he sighs deeply, the spread of blood is more than he would wish for and it is still seeping.

“Sieur Raymond, I am afraid the only way to remove your clothing is to cut it. I do not want you to make any movements which will set the wound bleeding again. Do you understand ?ʺ

ʺI’m not fucking dead yet, of course I understand, just do what you must do.ʺ  Jeanne presses her lips together and rolls her eyes. Raymond’s breathing is laboured, his voice is harsh if a little flat but there is still fire in him and he is angry at himself for being caught so easily by Geoffroyˮ

“Remove his belt, and that also.” Ambroise gestures to the blood soaked padding and binding, then from his array of equipment he selects a wickedly sharp, small bladed knife. Holding Raymonds clothes at the neck, he nicks the fabric then slices down to the waist. Discarding the knife he grabs either side of the cut cloth and rips it down further allowing Jeanne to push the tunic down over Raymond’s shoulders, arms and hips from where it drops to the floor exposing the wound.  
  
Jeanne’s eyes pop wide and she looks over her shoulder at Descoteaux, he shrugs, shakes his head slightly and keeps his face a mask. From Guillaume though there is a slight but audible gasp and he stares with his jaw slightly slack at the marks Jocelyne has left on Raymond’s body.  
  
Jeanne turns to Raymond and steps round him, everyone in the room has their eyes fixed on him. Long weals and scratches run every which way over his upper body, worse across his shoulders and some of them, so deep where the skin has been raked away that they have bled, leaving crusted scabs of dark blood. Livid purple bruises on his skin, teeth marks visible around some of them are scattered over his back, chest and even down to his belly.    
  
His Majesty clears his throat, but says nothing.  
  
Ambroise barks out “Boots and chausses too and then I can begin.” his quick look at Raymond tells him that nothing other than the knife wound should concern him, the rest will heal and fade of their own accord.  
  
All the while Guillaume stands at one end of the large table laying out the Items Master Martel has asked for. Linen cloths, bandages, flasks of old wine, Calendula steeping in hot water, Yarrow the soldiers’ herb pounded and ready to make a poultice. A small dish containing more of the old wine with curved needles soaking in the liquid, and next to it a wooden spool with fine thread and should they be needed there are cautery irons and any number of strange tools set out ready.

“Onto the table if you please.”

Raymond is stripped down to his braies now, Jeanne and Descoteaux support him as he hitches up onto the table. Thankfully he is so tall that he can accomplish it without much trouble.  
  
“Completely flat Sieur and you Madame have no business here now” She glares at the physician and he smiles. “Do you think I don’t know a woman when I see one?” he cocks his head “I should be a poor excuse for a physician if I did not, Madame Beauchêne.”  
  
“Be that as it may Master Martel, I am not leaving.”

“Then be sure not to get in my way.ʺ and he glares at her until she steps back.

The cut is more than the length of Jeanne’s hand, from middle finger to the heel of the palm, a diagonal slicing wound from side to belly. Master Martel bends to examine he damage, thankfully the wound has clean edges, not ragged but it is certainly deep enough to cause concern.   
  
ʺGuillaume is it?”

“Yes Sieur.”

“Pass me the Old wine and some cloths.” Guillaume steps forward with a bowl of the acidic liquid and some clean linen squares. Ambroise soaks one of them in the bowl and with out letting the cloth touch Raymonds skin he squeezes it out over the open wound allowing the liquid run through freely and cleanse the flesh. It pools beneath him then drips onto the floor filling the air with the pungent smell of vinegar.

Raymond’s body tenses and tightens. From his arse to his shoulders his back arches violently up from the table and as his mouth sets in a rictus grin  he hisses in his breath then releases a strangled groan from between gritted teeth.   
  
Slowly his he relaxes a little but there is no respite as Ambroise repeats the washing until he is as satisfied as he can be that the wound is clean.  
  
Raymond can no longer be bothered to speak or even acknowledge anything or anyone around him. He is tired, in pain and wants only for Ambroise to stop pawing at him and leave him alone so that he can sleep.  
  
 _ **“Fuck I must be growing old, once over this would have been nothing”**_

Guillaume speaks quietly. “Sieur Raymond, let me help you raise your head a little so you can drink this, it will dull the pain and help you rest.”  
  
Guillaume slides an arm beneath his Lord, raising him just enough so that he can drink the mixture of wine and poppy syrup.  
  
“You must take it all Sieur,” Guillaume presses the cup again to Raymond’s lips and holds it until all the liquid has gone.  
  
“Sweet Christ but that is foul” Raymond splutters and coughs. How many times in his life has he taken this to ease the pain of his wounds and it never tastes any better?   
  
He lays back down then grits his teeth again and feels bile rising in his throat as the physician pokes about making sure that nothing remains that could set the start of suppuration and infection.   
  
Calling next for the Calendula Water, Ambroise bathes the surrounding skin and inside the wound  before packing it with wine soaked bandages and covering it  over with a poultice of yarrow. As he tries to sit up and swing his legs over the table Raymond’s head swims and pinpricks of light dance before his eyes. It will be a little while before the numbing effects of the sleeping draught start to take effect and it can’t come soon enough. As he sits Master Martel winds bandages around him to hold the poultice tight, sweat is pours from Raymonds face and  the dark hairs on his damp chest are matted into darker curls.

He gestures for Descoteaux and Guillaume to guide Raymond to his bed.

ʺYou will live Sieur Raymond the wound is not mortal, the Devil shan’t have you yet, and he will no doubt be will exceedingly thankful for that.”

“Will you not sew the wound Master Martel?”  
  
“No, Majesty, for the moment it is better to do this, then any badness will be drawn out. If I am satisfied after the next day or two that it is completely clean, then I shall sew it and a day or two after that Sieur Raymond should be able to move more freely.”  
  
The soporific effect of the poppy is beginning to take hold but with one last effort Raymond grabs Ambroise’s wrist.  
  
“No, Martel, you will make sure I am well enough to sit my horse tomorrow, even if you have to lash me to my saddle and nail my feet to the stirrups.”  
  
“Sieur, for your own well being I cannot allow…”  
  
“Do it.” Raymond rasps, as his eyelids flutter closed.

 

“My plans have changed Fontaine and as Maçon is not here, you are charged with ensuring that everything is ready on time.” Phillip Augustus and Théo Fontiane are in Phillip’s most private chamber. The King is seated, relaxed with his legs stretched out, Théo has not been granted that privilege and stands before him seething. Philip takes a swallow of wine then sets his goblet down. “de Merville departs later today and I shall ride with him”  The King is  in absolutely no doubt that Raymond would leave, no matter what.

“But Majesty, it will take at least a full day to arrange”

With measured grace Philip rises from his chair, steps towards Théo Fontaine and fixes him with an icy stare that is at odds with the pleasant smile on his lips.

“You forget yourself Fontaine, I command and it is for you to obey.” Théo cannot hold the look. “All was in place before Raymond arrived here. I want everything ready by noon, This is not a Royal Progress, it is a trip to Rouen for a few days”

Théo is beaten and he knows it and  bows.  
“As your Majesty commands, and will you require me to remain and oversee matters here Sire?”

“Not at all Théo, I have my Castellan and his men for that, I should be glad to have your company after all Rouen is your home city is it not ? Surely you would not pass a chance to visit old haunts, see old friends and be entertained at the Chateau?”

Théo fumes silently and all he can answer is “It would be a welcome diversion Sire and you may be confident that everything will be ready for your departure tomorrow.”

“This is a sad business Fontaine, very sad, I believe they have caught the perpetrators but it seems they have already disposed of Maçon’s body, it is fortunate that Raymond is still with us”

“Indeed so Majesty.”

“I shall not keep you any longer Fontaine, I know you are anxious to make everything ready.” And with that he is dismissed

Théo Fontaine bows. Oh yes he already knows what has happened, his network of spies and informers  have ensured the news reached him quickly.

With a gracious, affable smile Philip watches as Théo bows his way out of the chamber.

_**“I’ll grant you’re a clever bastard Fontaine, but not clever enough, you can hardly wait to step inside the Chateau and meet with that scheming bitch”** _

Geoffroy Maçon’s guts have been scraped from the floor of the stables at “La Perle Rose” Two felons have been arrested for the crime of his murder. As for Geoffroy's body, whatever has not been weighed down and dropped into the Seine, will provide some of the neighbourhood pigs with an interesting diet.

1**From RM do not allow isabe to come here J

2**R alive, GM dead. Protect Isabé J


	20. Chapter 20

Grace and dignity.

  
This time as I cross the Inner ward to the Hall my steps are unhurried, I have lifted my skirts in one hand only and raise them just enough to clear the ground.

  
Master Laurent’s men are already here, laughing and joking together as they make their way inside to begin their work.  
“Good Morning Mam’selle, another hot one I think” The Foreman squints back out into the ward, “Storms too I shouldn’t wonder.”

  
“You may be right and I for one wish this damnable weather would break.”

  
“Ahh but maybe we should not wish for it until Sieur Raymond gets back home hein?” He grins and winks at me. “You would not want him delayed.”

I can feel myself flush as I nod in agreement.

 

“Will some of the hangings be ready for us today Mam’selle, it would be helpful if they were” Before I can answer Jehanne marches up to me with a sullen look on her face.

  
“Ah, there you are Isabé, I’ve been looking everywhere for you, I was sure you would have been back here ages past.”

 

“Well I’m here now, and Reynaud wants to know if any of the hangings are ready to be put up?

  
Jehanne frowns at me as she catches my brusque tone.

  
“Yes the ones which are to be placed behind the high table are ready and also a good number of the others, there are only three which need more work and they should be ready tomorrow.”

  
“Thank you Jehanne, you and Eleanor must make sure they are. Master Laurent’s men are here as a special favour, they cannot stay here for ever and I want the hall all ready for Sieur Raymonds return.”  
I can see she is about to speak and quickly I turn to the Foreman.

“There Reynaud,” I smile across at him “That should be enough for you to make a start”

  
He nods and pushes a large brown, gnarly hand back through his greying hair. “Thank you  Mam’selle that is appreciated.”

  
Catching something in the corner of his eye he suddenly turns to his right“ Hey, you two, mind what you’re doing, stand still up there, don’t you know how to behave you fucking idiots can’t you tell the scaffolding is swaying?” he growls up at the two apprentices. “You’ll end up killing yourselves, and who is supposed to be checking the tethers?” Eyes narrowed he glares up at the two boys. “Come on.”  
“Neither of us, we thought..........”  
“You don’t think, that’s your problem and you” he yells at an older boy standing three or four feet away by the base of the scaffold. “You are the one supposed to double check.” One stride and he is close enough to fetch the lad a sharp clout across the back of the head. “Now get the damned things tightened”  
Reynaud looks back at me and shrugs, a slightly sheepish expression on his face. “I beg your pardon Mam’selle but sometimes these lads have no more brains than a flea.” He turns back to berate them again but this time in hushed angry tones. I can only imagine he feels that his words are not fit for my delicate ears, if only he knew.

  
I smile to myself and turn to Jehanne. “Have you eaten?”

  
“No, I’ve been waiting for you and you’ve been ages, you must have had a hell of a lot to say to that woman” she spits out.  
“Yes indeed, we have had a great deal to talk about and much of it very interesting. I would remind you that the woman has a name Jehanne, I’d be obliged if you use it.” She pulls her arm away and glowers at me.  
“We have work to do Isabé.”  
“I’m well aware of that.”  
“You are a fool Isabé, a fool to be taken in by her, I don’t trust her.” She is holding both my hands in a tight grip.

  
“Well I do trust her, I can’t help that you don’t like her but at least try to be civil and don’t ever make an enemy of her that would not be wise of you Jehanne.” Her grip on my fingers grows tighter and she swallows hard. “For good or ill my dear friend, she is part of our lives and she is certainly part of Raymonds.” 

 

Her answer is to snort as she whispers “Scheming, crafty whore.”

 

“Enough Jehanne, don’t be so damned grumpy, it can’t be good for you on an empty stomach.”

  
A slight smile lifts one corner of her mouth.  
“I’m just not sure about her Isabé and I only tolerate her for your sake.” She huffs

 

  
“Rubbish, you tolerate her because she is an excellent needlewoman and that makes your work so much easier, since you don’t have to scrutinise her every stitch.”  
I find myself smiling as I wonder how in Hell Eleanor with her curious and unconventional life, ever found the time to wield a needle to such accomplished and exquisite effect. Then I shudder slightly as I remember that she wields a knife even better.

 

 

Raymond wakes cracks open his eyes carefully, shuts them again immediately and screws them up tightly. He groans as he realises the thumping noise he can hear is actually in his head. His tongue cleaves to his palate, the taste in his mouth is foul. Hitching himself up on his elbows he tries shuffling up the bed, a searing pain shoots through his side and he remembers.  
“Shit” the word hisses out from between his clenched teeth as he lets his head drop back and tries to breathe steadily but not too deeply. He feels like he’s been hit by a hay waggon.

  
“Sieur take care don’t try to move too quickly, in fact it would be better if you were to try and stay still.”

  
“Guillaume, come and help me up” Raymond’s voice is a hoarse, dry growl. “Sweet Christ but the potion you gave me would have felled a Destrier.”

  
Guillaume crosses to the bed and helps Raymond to sit up.

  
“No, no, I mean help me up, out of this damned bed.”

  
Guillaume stands back and chews on his lip as Raymond stares up at him.

“Sieur I don’t think that’s wise. Master Martel would not approve.”

  
Raymond is in no fit state to travel, he knows he is weak but he is in no mood for argument his temper flares. “Don’t fucking argue boy, I told Martel I would leave today, so he can shove his approval up his arse.” He grimaces as he tries to swing his legs out of bed. “Now stop fussing like an old wet hen and damned well help me, I need to get home and that won’t happen if I lay festering in here.”

 

“Not yet Sieur,” Guillaume blows out a long breath “Now that you are awake, I must send word to Master Martel so you will please stay abed until he has seen you.”

  
It was not a question and Raymond manages a wry smile at his squire’s determined tone and new found authority.

  
“If I must.” He settles back on the pillows

  
When Master Martel arrives he examines Raymond closely.

  
“Well you certainly have more colour than yesterday.”

  
“What about the wound Martel?”

  
“That will remain bound for two more days, after that I will remove the dressing and providing there is no infection or suppuration there, it can be stitched.” As always Ambroise keeps his voice calm and unemotional. “I would advise you not to travel until then Sieur Raymond and certainly not as far as Rouen.” Eyeball to eyeball the two men stare at one another, Ambroise shrugs “However, I know full well that advice given can be taken or discarded at will. “He smiles broadly adding “I know what stamp of man you are Raymond de Merville, doubtless you will do as your conscience dictates but I cannot be held responsible if you should fall ill on the road.”

  
“Hmmph, you fuss as much as Guillaume, I’ve fought hand to hand with wounds worse than this, now let me out of this bed.” Raymond flings the covers back. “Guillaume fetch my clothes.”

  
“You forget Sieur Raymond, you are getting older as we all must and your body will not take such punishment easily now.”

But even as he speaks, Ambroise helps Raymond get to his feet.

  
“Oh fuck off with your old wives’ lecture Martel and what the hell did you give me to drink?”

  
“Poppy syrup in wine, that is all?”

  
“Well it must have been enough to fell a bull, it feels like someone is carving a Gargoyle out of my brain”

  
He glances over to where Guillaume is rifling through the chest. “Not those.”

  
“Sieur?”

  
“Not those clothes boy, I ride out of here in Mail and de Merville colours, not tricked out like some poxy Merchant.”

  
Guillaume, eyes wide glances at the Physician, who simply shrugs.

  
“Don’t look to him boy, just do as I say.”

  
“You really are ill advised to do this de Merville, you...”

  
Raymond cuts in sharp, “Enough I am leaving today I told you as much and there’s an end to it.” He swallows hard as he thinks of Isabé and as the smile on his lips reaches his eyes, in a softer voice he adds. “Besides, I have a wedding to attend and I think the Bride might well be weary of waiting for the Bridegroom to set a date. His mind drifts elsewhere there is a slightly faraway look in his eyes and a gentle smile on his lips.

  
“Guillaume.”

  
“Yes Master Martel?

  
“Will you remember everything that was done, it will be helpful for whoever takes over the care of Sieur Raymond.”

  
“I will remember.”

  
“Repeat it to me then.” Without hesitation Guillaume lists everything that has been done, every medicament, its application, its quantity and how often it should be administered.”

  
_****“Ce garçon est perdu comme un écuyer sieur Raymond, il a un bon esprit et une aptitude à la médecine, je pense.”1** _

  
A flush colours Guillaumes cheeks and he looks down at his feet, then self-consciously back up at the physician. “Thank you Master Martel you are most kind” Although his voice is soft, there is no mistaking the slight note of pride in his voice and Raymond turns to look at him.”

  
“I take it you have someone who can be called on to attend to Sieur Raymond”

  
“Indeed, my Sister will be able to do it” he smiles a little at the still unfamiliar word. “Yes my Sister Isabé  and doubtless she will send for Brother Anselm, although I know she could easily stitch the wound herself.”

  
Raymond winks, smiles and slaps his hand down on the boys shoulder receiving a broader smile in return.

  
“Well I suppose she will only be trading one kind of needlework for another, just so long as she doesn’t see fit to add flowers and such, eh Guillaume.” A simple nod of the head and Guillaume knows he is forgiven.

  
“What in the name of God is that disgusting rag?” Ambroise Martel wrinkles his nose and points at the offending article. He has noticed the dingy stained cloth Raymond is holding. folding most Raymond doesn’t answer at first but folds the now soiled and crumpled square of linen in half and half and half again. There is a warmth which deepens the blue of his eyes and he smiles as he answers.

  
“This Martel, is the link to my salvation.” He folds it once more, before he works it inside his tunic and presses it close to his heart.

  
Gone is the linen cloth that has bound my hair tight these last few days, gone also my workaday shoes and the slightly sweat stained housemaids dress. My chamber smells of lavender and rose and I am wearing one of the gowns gifted to me by Raymond. A gown of fine, soft, moss green wool. Although the style is simple, the neck and sleeves are bound around with deep bands of embroidery. Bright flowers worked in gold thread and coloured silks, the centre of each set with a small pearl. It is beautiful and elegant It fits my figure a little loosely as it should so I fasten a girdle of soft brown leather around my hips, fasten it, then tie a knot beside the  buckle letting the long gold tipped strap hang down. A small hanger is set onto the belt and I hang my eating knife from it. Soon hopefully I will need more for the keys and the household purse.   
As Jehanne combs the last of tangles from my hair I stand perfectly still and stare out of the window to the town below. The sky is still leaden and the air heavy but the tops of the trees are moving in an ever freshening breeze signalling rain.

 

“Will you braid it for me please Jehanne?”

  
“Why, you always wear it lose Iasbé?”

  
“Not today and perhaps not any other day.”

  
She laughs then whispers in my ear “I imagine Raymond might have something to say about that” A tingle of pleasure and longing, ripples through me and settles in my belly. Eyes almost closed I can feel his fingers slide through it and weave into the pale strands as he pulls my face closer to his.

  
“Perhaps but today I shall wear it in a braid.”

  
Jehanne pours two drops of scented oil into her palm and as she rubs her hands together the lemon scent of Melissa rises up. With long even strokes she smooths my hair then works a green ribbon into the strands before wrapping the tail of the ribbon around the end and tucks it in securely. Now it hangs in one long, thick, heavy braid down my back.

  
“You place too much trust in what Eleanor has to say, I know she has advised you to do this.”

  
“I think there is a great deal of sense in most of what Eleanor has to say and in this case she is right, Raymond does not want and does not need a silly girl for a wife, he... ”

  
I don’t finish the sentence before Jehanne cuts in.

  
“Don’t be a fool Isabé, you have never been a silly girl.” She takes hold of my hands “If he didn’t like who you are, he would never have wanted to make you his wife, don’t bury the Isabé he knows, the Isabé we all know, that is my advice for what it’s worth.”

  
I secure my veil to the narrow fillet around my head then secure it even more with simple circlet pressed down over it.

  
“Thank you Jehanne.” I glance up at her as I fasten my shoes my smile is a little forced, “I shall bear that in mind and if I am wrong then you will be the first to see me eat humble pie.”

  
I take her hand as I stand up, there is a curious expression on her face and for once I can’t fathom it. “Please, Jehanne let me do this in my own way and please try to be pleasant to Eleanor, she has lost a great deal in losing Raymond, not only that, I would not advise you to make an outright enemy of her.” My warning hangs in the air and Jehanne doesn’t answer as I leave the room.”

 

It is almost midday when I step down into the hall. The Chateau is beginning to look as wonderful as I had hoped, the walls are almost clean now, the hounds have been kept out for the duration and the place no longer stinks like a kennel.

  
“Mam’selle, Mam’selle Pelletier.” My name bounces from the walls as a young page races into the hall.

  
“Here” I call back and walk towards him.

  
“Mam’selle a message for you.” He drops the wooden cylinder into my palm.

  
“Thank you were there any others?” He looks confused rather than wary.

  
“No Mam’selle.” He shakes his head.

  
“I mean for anyone else, not just for me?” I’m not stupid enough to completely trust Eleanor.

  
“No, nothing for anyone else.” And so I have to take his word.

  
I crack the seal it is marked for me in tiny letters. “Isb. P” Inside there is a small scroll of parchment wrapped around several times with thread, the loose ends of which are held tight with more wax. My fingers are shaking as I open it  but I smile as I see the words, it is hard to imagine Raymond forming such small, neat letters.

  
_****Mon coeur, quand tu recevras ceci nous voyagerons. Le Roi est avec nous. Je  t'aime. R. 2** _

  
I never thought for one moment I would feel such relief and joy to know that Raymond is well enough to travel home and I can’t wait to see that hard bitten old warhorse stride into the hall.

  
“God Day, Fournier I hope I don’t disturb you?”

  
He leaves off writing, lifts his head and frowns, he seems surprised. “I know, you have been used to seeing me running around like a village girl on wash day.”

  
“Not at all Mam’selle, not at all, what can I do for you.” his composure is restored.

  
“I thought you would wish should like to know that Sieur Raymond is on his way home and the King travels with him.”

  
The unflappable Fournier takes it in his stride. “Thank you Mam’selle, does the Baron know?”

  
“Not yet, after all, the Baron is not the one who has to worry about feeding and housing them, for him it just happens. So I think it’s better that you and then DuFour, know first.” I grin at him he smiles back with such a light in those grey eyes.

  
“Well I thank you Mam’selle at least now we can start to prepare, and thank you also for arranging to have all the spare quarters ready. Now I should go and press those families who pass as nobility into offering some accommodation if we should need it.”

 

“I don’t think you will have a problem Fournier, most of them will bite your hand off it they think they will gain anything by it”

  
His laugh is rich and strong. “I think you have the measure of them my dear.” His face flushes suddenly at what he sees as his over familiarity.  “Forgive me I.....”

  
“Fournier my friend, you are speaking to the woman who burned Raymond de Merville’s bed in the courtyard and had her arse clattered in public for doing it.”  He laughs again all tension gone.

  
“Now I have to tackle DuFour, wish me luck” and I head deeper into the Kitchen, the Baron can wait.

 

As he watches her walk away, Fournier feels as if his heart will burst with pride and he whispers “My sweet Daughter, may God give me the courage to make myself known to you soon.”

  
"Raymond, I’ve already set Fontaine and Descoteaux in charge of a vanguard made up of half of your men and half of mine, they left early this morning and all being well they should reach Rouen a good few hours before us.

  
“Majesty?” Raymond is taken by surprise.

  
“Oh come Raymond, I could have wagered my Kingdom, won it back and doubled my stake on the plain fact that no matter what, you would leave for Rouen today, even if I’d had to put you in a wagon. I know you too well, you stubborn old Bastard.”

  
To have Philip travel alongside him sends out a powerful message, which says. “This man is my Champion, my confidante, my friend and he is under my direct protection, challenge him if you dare. Raymond grunts in pain as he mounts up and settles into the saddle.

  
“Don’t worry my friend, we will take an easy pace.” Philip slaps him on the forearm.

  
“There is no need Majesty, I have a desire to be home so I ask no quarter”

  
Phillip tilts his handsome face to the sky, and laughs. “Stiff necked as ever, well I most certainly have a desire to meet the woman who has your blood so on fire.”

  
Raymond looks up, sees the gathering storm clouds threatening rain and wonders how he could have been so stupid as to insist on wearing full mail when he’s feeling so shit.

 

“For God’s sake Isabé wipe that mournful look off your face before I slap it off” Eleanor grabs hold of my shoulders and shakes me.

  
I look to Jehanne but there is no sympathy from that quarter. In spite of my outward calm and my attention to my work, my nerves are frayed and sleep has been hard to come by. I have barely eaten since the message from Raymond almost two days ago and there have been no more.

  
“I agree, if there is no news then everything must be well Isabé, so stop looking so damned miserable, one glance at you and Raymond will turn tail and run. I for one wouldn’t blame him for that, what do you say Ghislane?”  I swear Jehanne winks at Eleanor, they seem to have formed an unlikely alliance, their only aim being to make sure I stay well, eat and sleep. Dear God in trying to bring the two of them together I could well have created a monster.

  
Ghislane stabs her needle into the piece of linen she is working on and looks across at me. Her round gentle face creases and plumps as she smiles but there is an odd dullness clouding her eyes.

  
“Oh I don’t think he’ll run from our Isabé he’s far too smitten. He looks at you the way Luc used to look at me.”

  
The dullness gives way to something else now, I don't know if it is bitterness, anger or hatred but  it flares and then dies too quickly for me to be certain. Something about her is pricking at me.

  
"How long have you been a widow Ghislane, I don't think you told me?"

  
Her shoulders rise and fall as she lets out a deep shuddering breath.

  
"Luc has been dead for over 30 years and it seems like yesterday or sometimes as if he has simply walked out of a room”. “The Baron took me in, gave me somewhere to stay and arranged for me to be taken into the household.”  
“You were fortunate Ghislane, not everyone would have been shown such consideration.” And though I say nothing, I wonder why she should be favoured in such a way.

  
She pats my hand. “Indeed not Isabé, I have been fortunate indeed.

  
A sharp, rapid knocking at the door interrupts her, and I give permission for whoever it is to enter. One of the young pages steps hesitantly into my chamber and gives his very best bow.

  
“Mam’selle Pelletier, if you please I am instructed by the Seneschal to inform you that  Capt Descoteaux and Théo Fontaine have arrived from Paris.

  
My hand flies up to cover my mouth, Théo Fontaine, I had never thought to hear that name again, let alone to see him “Is Sieur Raymond with them?”  
“No Mam’selle, although some of his men have returned .”

  
I nod at him, “Thank you and please tell Fournier I will be down directly.”

  
Forgetting to bow he scuttles out of the room

  
“Oh God,God why isn’t Raymond with them?.........” I feel my breath catch in my throat and I feel sick.

  
“Isabé, Isabé” Eleanor’s voice has a soothing sing song lilt and as I spin round to face her she raises one eyebrow. “Grace and Dignity” I nod briefly in agreement but nonetheless, race out of the room only slowing at the top of the stairs.

  
“Riders, Riders.”

  
The cry goes up from the gatehouse, and thirty riders led by Descoteaux and Fontaine trot into the Courtyard kicking up their own dust storm and Fournier who sees and hears everything, despatches two pages, one to the Baron and one to Isabé.

  
Théo Fontaine slides down from his horse and grins at Mathieu.

  
“I’m sure I can leave matters in your capable hands Descoteaux, I have better things to do with my time.”

  
He doesn’t wait for an answer but turns on his heel and strides towards the steps taking them two at a time up into the hall.

  
_**“Arrogant Prick”** _

  
“You.” He grabs a young serving maid by the wrist as she walks by and yanks her towards him.  “Well you’re a pretty little thing, he sets his face close to hers, relishing the fact that she trembles a little and tries to back away. “Go fetch me some wine and some food and be quick.”  
The girl remembers to curtsey but can’t manage to speak and merely nods.

  
Slowly he turns full circle on the spot, taking everything in, the scaffolding, the banners ,the banners, the scent of beeswax and herbs. Then he looks up and catches sight of Isabé making her way down the staircase.

  
His black hair still has the sheen of a Ravens wing, no I think to myself, rather a carrion crow, his sombre clothing only adding to the effect.  
With my hand outstretched I walk determinedly towards him.

  
“Théo Fontaine, this is indeed a surprise.” I astonish myself with the steadiness of my voice.

 

“Isabé, you have blossomed.” He takes my bare hand in his gloved one and raises it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to it. “You were always my darling girl.” Bile rises up and I can taste it as he rakes his teeth over a knuckle and gives a little growl.

  
“Not wise Théo, besides you would be wasting your time on me, I washed my hands of you long ago.” I speak quietly and the smile never leaves my lips.

  
Before he can respond Fournier is with us, the housemaid behind him carrying a tray with wine and food. I pray to God he was not close enough to hear my words. Théo narrows his eyes and his nostrils flare as he stares at me.

  
“Fontaine, welcome I have a room set aside for you where you may rest and refresh yourself and the bath house is across the courtyard” I see Théo’s face fall a little as he realises he is being put in his place, no private bath for him in his chamber, no, that consideration is reserved for the Baron’s family and those nobles much farther up the ladder then he is.

“I will of course completely understand should wish to adjourn to your family’s home.” Fournier’s coolly polite manner is a clear signal that he doesn’t care what Théo does.

  
“Thank you I should prefer to remain here at the Chateau”

  
“Then if you would follow me.” Fournier steps away and the smile Theo shoots me is lascivious and feral and  he strides away with the serving maid following at heel.”

  
**_“How could I ever have let myself fall in love with you,  what possessed me to lay with you. How I loathe you Théo”_ **

  
All I want is for Raymond to come home safely, to have him wrap his arms around me and just hold me close.

  
“Mam’selle” I shake my head to break my reverie, Mathieu is frowning slightly. “Are you well Mam’selle?

  
“Yes thank you Mathieu, just my mind elsewhere is all, do you have news of Raymond?”

  
A broad smile breaks across his face, but I can tell he is choosing his words carefully. “He is, tired, sore, foul tempered and miserable but fit to ride.”

  
“So nothing much changes then?” I can’t help but laugh. 

  
“Indeed and God willing only a few hours behind us.”

  
“Thank you, but what about his wound?”

  
He presses his lips into a line “He will soon mend I think, he physician was concerned about infection and so it has not been stitched.”

  
“Thank you my friend, now go to Jehanne, you will find her in the sewing room I wink at him” he dashes up the stairs and races along the upper corridor.

  
Hours drag, I can’t turn my mind to any task without my thoughts flitting to Raymond. He has worked himself under my skin and is working his way to my heart damn him.

  
My needlework is bunched on my lap the needle stabbed into the cloth and Eleanor and Jehanne roll their eyes at one another as I sigh yet again.

  
It is Mathieu who hammers on the door.

  
“Mam’selle, Sieur Raymond is home. I spring up fling my needlework to the table and I almost fall flat on my face as I catch my foot on the chair leg.

  
“Damn and hellfire” I race for the door.

  
“Isabé!” two voices reach my ears “We will go down together.”

  
“Then you’d best hurry I’m not waiting.” I race out of the door and past Mathieu and Jehanne but Eleanor is close behind and her slender fingers snatch at my arm curling around in a vice like grip.

  
“Isabé, be calm, greet him as if all is well, then get him to his chamber as quickly as you can and I will send Descoteaux for Brother Anselme.

  
With a nod I gather my skirts and quietly make my way into the hall. No matter that the King is there, the only person I can see is Raymond and it is not good, his walk is stiff, there is a lack of vigour and he holds his right arm clamped tight to his side. It’s clear he is exhausted. When he catches sight of me he smiles, it reaches his eyes, though they seem tight. I smile back at him but the closer I get the more my heart sinks. His face is pale, save for a spot of high colour on each cheek and there is a sheen of sweat over his skin.

  
The Baron, Fournier, the King and Guillaume stand around him, I should bide my time and wait to get close to him, but I am not a patient person, I want to get him away from here.

  
“Majesty, welcome” I step forward and with my head bowed drop my deepest and most elegant curtsey. As I look up he proffers his hand for me to kiss, then raises me to my feet.

  
“Isabé, I presume?”

  
“Yes Sire.”

  
“Then I am in no doubt as to why this miserable, hard bitten old campaigner has been so anxious to return home, take him away Mam’selle, tend him, have him well for the wedding.” Then he laughs.

  
“Would you care to remind me of the date de Merville?”

  
Without hesitation Raymond shoots back, “Saturday Sire”

  
The very stones of the building seems to sigh with relief, three days’ time and at last the final plans can be made.

  
“Welcome home Raymond, I take hold of his left hand he raises it to his lips then draws me to him so that he can kiss me and he whispers. “I have missed you my darling, you look beautiful, now for fuck’s sake get me out of here.” His voice is hoarse.

  
We make our way to the stairs and he has not yet let go of my hand. As we walk, I quietly give out instructions. Ghislane scurries off to fetch hot and cold water and clean linen cloths, Jehanne runs to get the two medicine boxes from the chest in my room and Guillaume and Eleanor have already made their way to the Raymond’s Chamber

.  
I press a kiss to the edge of Raymonds jaw as he halts at the top of the stairs, his eyes flutter closed for a moment and I sense something change in him. When we reach the chamber, Guillaume and Eleanor have already rolled out the tub.

  
“Put the stool in the centre of it.” Guillaume frowns at me then begins to help Raymond disrobe, it is a slow affair to get rid of the mail as Raymond is loath to move his arm too high. By the time Ghislane and three housemaids have returned with pails of water, jugs and cloths and Jehanne has brought the boxes, he is still half dressed.

  
“Everything Guillaume, down to his braies” As I busy myself pulling whatever items I might need from my boxes and setting them out on the table Guillaume strips Raymond down.

  
All I hear is a collective intake of breath, a loud “FUCK” from Eleanor, “Sweet Christ” is the counterpoint from Guillaume and both are accompanied by strangled noises from Jehanne and Ghislane and as I turn I feel my eyes pop wide and my jaw slacken.

  
“Out, all of you.” no one moves they just stare.

  
“I said out, NOW!” 

  
“But Isabé,” Guillaume starts to protest.

  
“You too,” I snap at him, “when and If I need any of you I’ll call”

  
The door closes softly behind them. For a few moments I can’t bring myself to step closer to Raymond and I certainly don’t trust myself to speak to him. My heart thumps, my hands shake and as I stare wide eyed at Raymond’s back, the warm air of the room presses in on me and makes me catch my breath. My own heart beat pounds loud in my ears, my fingers furl and unfurl into fists and already my jaw aches from clenching my teeth together. I know what those marks are, I may be naïve but I’m not stupid. Save for the bandage and his braies he is naked and he sits head bowed, shoulders hunched forwards. When I trace my finger down one of the scratches I barely touch his skin but nonetheless he shudders and his breath catches in his throat. As I lean forward to speak to him I keep my voice low, even though I want to scream at him.

  
_**** Peut-être aimeriez-vous me parler des morsures et des égratignures? S'agissait-il de Jeanne Beauchêne?3** _

  
“Tell me, Raymond.”

  
Slowly I walk around the tub to stand in front of him, he looks up at me and I can’t fathom his expression but his eyes are glittering and hard, warning me.

  
“It is not for you to know.”

  
Seemingly of it’s own accord my right arm swings back then arcs across and connects. His head whips to the side, he holds it there for a moment as the sound of palm to cheek seems to bounce from the walls and echoes around the room, then silence. As he turns slowly back to face me I see the mark is already beginning to redden on his skin and his eyes are full of self-loathing.

  
“You Bastard, you swore to me there would be no one else in your bed, you swore.”

  
“Indeed I did, and nor has there been anyone in MY bed and so I have not lied to you.” His voice is low and quiet and he gives a little shake of his head.

  
“No but you are very careful with the truth, very careful indeed. I only hope the woman the King wished you to marry was worth.......”  
“It was not her.”

  
“Then doubtless it was some cheap whore you picked up along the way” My voice is rising.

  
One corner of his mouth lifts in an unpleasant smirk “Oh decidedly not cheap Isabé, I can assure you, she cost me a great deal of coin” I slap him a second time then bring my arm back for a third blow.

  
He snatches at my wrist with his left hand, his grip is painful. “Don’t do that again Isabé, don’t give me reason to retaliate, because even in this state, I could still deal with you and not break sweat.

  
I wrench my arm away as I shout at him “Fuck you Raymond, fuck you to hell and back, though it looks as if that bitch of a whore already has.” I reach for one of the water jugs and I brandish it at him “Think yourself lucky that I don’t beat your brains out with this” then I dump the contents over his head. “And think yourself even more fortunate that this is only a table knife.” I grasp at the knife hanging from my belt and point it at his groin, then in frustration I launch the empty jug at the wall. It shatters with the most satisfying sound of earthenware on stone and the pieces clunk to the floor.

  
Raymond stares at me, water trickles from his hair, drips from his nose and chin and there is such weariness etched on his face. I honestly believe he has no idea how much my anger is burning, and that it has nothing to do with him bedding a whore.

  
My voice steadies and I draw calming breaths, Raymond wobbles to his feet. Water drops trapped in the hair on his chest catch the light and sparkle, the old scar on his face seems livid against his pale cheek and all the other scars of his life are written on his body, a book of pain and hardship.  If I read it then I will know Raymond but I need him to tell me the story in his own words to open himself to me.

  
“You know everything there is to know about me Raymond, you spent months finding out before you brought me here, for God’s sake you knew my darkest secret even before I told you, yet you will not let me know you at all”

  
I am almost winning my fight to be calm, but the anger is still bubbling under the surface.

  
“I want to help you Raymond, I want to be a true wife to you in every way but you will not let me.”

  
His eyes are like cold blue flames and his jaw is set rigid but I am not afraid of him.

  
“I cannot marry a man who will not trust me to help him deal with what is in here" I gently press my fingers against his forehead. "Or indeed in here" I drop my hand to his chest, place my palm against his rapidly beating heart and I wait for the storm. It doesn’t come and when he looks  at me his eyes burn even more as he lays his hand over mine.

  
His voice is hoarse, tight, it cracks and breaks as he speaks.

  
“I cannot Isabé, for your own protection I cannot let you into that part of me, the less you know the safer you will be.”

  
I can’t keep my anger in check now and wrench my hand away, my voice certainly loud enough for those on the other side of the door to hear.

  
"You had best inform Monseigneur Baron and His Majesty that there will be no wedding, or better still have your wedding, marry Eleanor she would make you a better wife than ever I would.”

  
“Isabé” my name rumbles out as a low warning growl and I know that I am pushing him to the limits of his patience but I continue, snapping out my words.

  
“You hold her in great regard, you took pains to tell me that she soothed your mind, Oh yes you can share those things with your fucking Mistress yet you don’t deem me important enough for that you arrogant shit.”

  
“Isabé stop this.” He yells at me now “All I want is to protect you”

  
I scream out in frustration, I don’t care that even through the thick oak door my voice can likely be heard down in the hall.

  
“No, all you desire is some compliant little brood mare, tricked out prettily and trotting nicely at your side, a nice little filly who will let you cover her whenever you want and expect nothing in return but a comfortable stall and a few titbits. I’ll wager that you had every intention of crawling back to Eleanor’s bed so that she can “Soothe” you”

  
“If I’d wanted soft brood mare Isabé, you would have been my last choice” there is a note of grim humour in his voice.  
“I stride over to the door and yank it open

  
“Guillaume, I need you to help Sieur Raymond bathe, his bandage and dressing need to be removed carefully, I’m sure Madame Forrestier will help you and no doubt Brother Anselme will be here soon,”

  
Eleanor’s face is white, clearly she has heard what I said, in trying to hurt Raymond I chose the nearest weapon to hand and I am immediately sorry.

  
“Eleanor, when you are finished here, would you please make sure that my medicine boxes are returned to me the Manor?” she stares at me, nods but says nothing as I turn to Ghislane. “Well my friend, it seems you will not be handing over the Chatelaine’s keys just yet.  No one speaks as I turn to look at Raymond but I catch the look that passes between them.

  
Jehanne follows me out, grabbing at my arm. "What are you doing Isabe, for God’s sake?"

  
"No, not for God’s sake Jehanne for mine and for Raymonds." I take her cool hand in mine "You stay, stay and work with Eleanor, he should marry her she understands him." My throat burns and aches and I am fighting to keep my composure as I press a kiss to her cheek. "I think you will be married sooner than I Jehanne, I doubt anyone else would offer for me now, you stay here with Mathieu and be happy with him."  
"Isabe no, stay, stay and mend this."

  
If Raymond wishes to resolve it he will know where to find me, it is his choice now."

  
I pull my arm from her grasp and walk rapidly towards my Chamber. I force myself not to cry but by the time I reach the door the hot tears are running down my cheeks.

  
**“This boy is wasted as a Squire Sieur Raymond, he has a fine mind and an aptitude for medicine I think.”1

  
**“My Heart, when you receive this we will be travelling. The King is with us. I love you. R”2

  
**” Maybe you would like to talk to me about bites and scratches? Was it Jeanne Beauchêne?3

 


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21.

I sit on the floor, arms wrapped tightly around my knees hugging them to me. Dry racking sobs have made my throat burn and my chest ache but there is no sadness only sheer bloody anger at Raymond and also at myself. I could stay I suppose and reason or even fight it out with him if he can be stubborn then so can I. Sieur damned  Raymond de Merville has yet to learn just how deeply I can dig my heels in. I won’t give him the pleasure of seeing me cowed. The gown, veil, shoes, even the hose and circlet I was wearing are placed neatly on my bed. My heart sinks, what if I can’t make him see reason and meet with me on this, then I should have to leave and I think that would cut my heart.

**_“Oh Mother Of God Isabé come to your senses and get a hold of yourself you idiot. You should stand and fight your corner, you damned well know that where Raymond is concerned running is not the answer he will chase you down. Then a small anxious voice in my head adds “But perhaps you”re afraid that if you do run, he might not follow you?”_ **

But I give that thought a hefty shove shove straight to the back of my mind and start to pull on my clothes.

I curse under my breath as my fingers shake and I mis-tie my shoes twice and fumble the braiding of my hair. Dressed in a plain gown no veil I make my way to Raymond’s chamber, as I reach the door I hesitate for a moment before I push it open, Raymond is bellowing at full volume and his full volume can shake foundations.

“Fucking women stop mauling me about, just leave me be and as for you Guillaume you’re just as damned troublesome!” 

I catch the completely unsympathetic look which passes between Eleanor and Jehanne as they fight to hide their sniggering. Guillaume bites at the inside of his mouth as tries to ignore it by busying himself raiding the contents of my medicine boxes and setting out what he thinks Ansélme will need.

“I see you are still in a foul temper Raymond, I suggest you treat these ladies and Guillaume with some civility, you are at their mercy and there are sharp instruments and purgatives to hand. My sing-song words do nothing to improve his temper and as he sneers across at me I smile sweetly.

“Are you still here you hellcat, I thought you would be at the Manor by now pouring out your tale of woe. Go away Isabé I don’t need you here.”

There is no humour behind his words. His anger and bitterness shock me almost as much as the foul, narrow eyed look he gives me. I won’t let him see that he unnerves me and walk towards him with my eyes locked firmly to his, I will not drop my gaze. He almost naked excepting his braies and the bandages over his wound and I am now so close to him that I can feel the heat from his body. My voice is low, for him only and as I whisper close to his ear, it pleases me to hear his breath catch in his chest, to see his eyelids flutter closed for a moment.

“I come and go as I please Raymond, as do you, but I have not and will not withhold anything from you, it will serve you well to remember that.” Stretching up on tiptoe I lay my hand against his chest to steady myself. The feel of his skin and the soft hairs beneath my fingers and palm sets a tingle through me. I brush my mouth against his jaw, the rasp of his beard against my lips and the scent of him in my nostrils makes me shiver, when I speak my voice has lowered to a soft purr. “Think on this Raymond, I am not done with you over this matter, not by any means so I give you fair warning, now sit down and behave.”

He turns his head just a little covers my hand with his own and whispers back “Nor am I done with you Isabé, I shall enjoy this challenge” His words are full of heat and he gives a swift sharp nip to my earlobe. Even though the look in his eyes is warmer now there is still something guarded and a little feral about it. My heart pounds but not with fear.

Two thumps rattle the door. “Enter.” Our voices call out unison

Raymond snarls at me “This is still my Chamber Isabé, you are not Mistress here yet.”

“Well if you are always going to be in such a foul temper, I thank God for that.”

Taller than Raymond and some 5 years younger, a slightly dishevelled Brother Ansélme strides in to the room and though his black robes are damp and mud spattered, the Benedictine still cuts an imposing figure. He pushes back his cowl to reveal a severe tonsure, a broad grin and a pair of brown eyes, twinkling with a little mischief. His military bearing is still apparent, calm and efficient if a little bluff at times, though he can be forgiven for that. Returning from Crusade, he surrendered his inheritance to his young brother who had been unfit to fight and only asked for enough to fund his studies. Claude would have granted him much more.  Montpellier1 was his destination and medicine his calling but it wasn’t enough to erase his harsh memories. Returning to Rouen he entered the Abbey of St. Ouen. Now he is the Infirmarer, and herbalist and his soul has found some solace. Most people soon come to realise though that although the man may leave the world, the world does not always leave the man.

“Thank Christ and all his saints you are here Ansélme , send these damned women away they are driving me insane, you go too Guillaume. I’ll send word should I need you.

Eleanor and Jehanne finish smoothing the bed and turning down the covers, fresh drying cloths are beside the tub and on top of the wash cloth Eleanor sets out a piece of expensive Castile soap. I catch the two of them shrugging at one another and rolling their eyes. It seems they have formed a most unlikely alliance, if so then may God have mercy on us all.

“Brother I shall stay and help.”

He frowns at me “Is that wise Mam’selle?”

“Surely there can be nothing improper if you are here and besides, you taught me what I know so who better to assist you. Oh, and when did I become Mam’selle and not Isabé?”

“I know you well enough to know your delicate sensibilities won’t be offended.” He grins at me “And you became Mam’selle the moment Raymond offered for you.”

“Is that so, then you had best return to calling me Isabé, for I haven’t accepted his offer and I’m not sure I shall.”

I don’t see the quizzical look Ansélme shoots at Raymond or the mouthed “Contrary Baggage” he receives in return.

Raymond snorts a laugh, “I doubt you would know the meaning of the word improper Isabé.”

“Oh I do, and far better than you it would seem” I stare pointedly at the scratches and bite marks and he glares at me “Don’t scowl at me de Merville, you might frighten Nicolette with that look but she is only five and hasn’t yet realised there is no threat in it.”

I usher the others out of the room, Jehanne grins at me “I’m going to find Matthieu” and without another word she races down the stairs. 

“Raymond is in a foul mood,” Guillaume’s forehead pleats into a frown and he drops his hand to my shoulder. “He doesn’t want you in there Isabé I can stay nearby in case he calls for me.”

“Well he can grumble and swear as much as he likes, I’ll be there to help and you need some time to yourself.”

He sniggers “I doubt that Sieur Raymond has any idea of what he’s taking on with you Isabé, but thank you, I’ll ride home, do you have any messages for me to deliver?”

“This for Maman”, I press a kiss to his cheek “and this is for Henri” I hug him “Give them my love and say I should like them to dine here this evening, now go before Raymond decides he needs you. 

Eleanor stands quietly in the shadow of the wall and watches me with a tranquil expression on her face.

I take a deep breath “I am sorry for my harsh words Eleanor, my anger got the better of me and should not have been directed at you I did not mean....”

She raises her right hand palm outwards and speaks quietly. “Isabé stop, what you said is true, I was known as Raymond’s whore and then as his Mistress.” She is watching me closely. “Yes he has spoken about his past to me but don’t forget we have travelled similar paths, if we had not unburdened ourselves each other we should have gone mad.”

“I’m sure he will come round to telling you about his past Isabé but he is a stubborn man who won’t be pushed, he is only trying to shield you, don’t condemn him for that.”  

Eleanor lays a cool hand against my cheek, then catches my chin between finger and thumb. “His has been a hard and often bitter life, my advice is just to give him some time.”

She lets her hand drop to mine and clasps it gently.

“The three of us are bound in this Isabé, I will be in his life and yours whilst I have Nicolette to consider, I won’t keep her away from him and I will always seek his advice about her.

I bite hard at the inside of my mouth. “I understand Eleanor and I would not wish Nicolette to be kept away from her Father.”

“I know he has never loved me Isabé, but it’s best you understand

I love him deeply, I always will, nothing and no one can change that.” She narrows her eyes at me. “Can you truly say you love him Isabé?”

I bow my head and she huffs a harsh little laugh at my silence.

“Well he loves you, so treat him well, if you break that stubborn heart then you’ll find a fierce enemy in me and I don’t take prisoners.”

There’s a brittle edge to her voice and the warm air in the corridor seems to chill. Her threat is real and for several heartbeats we stare at one another until she speaks again in a gentler tone.

“Now if you will excuse me Isabe, I must go and retrieve Nicolette from her Grandfather, he will no doubt be spoiling her beyond redemption and showing her off to His Majesty.  She catches the surprised look on my face. “Oh yes, the Baron ranks high amongst her favourites, the others being her Father and her pony though at times I’m never quite sure who holds the highest place in her heart. Should you need me later I shall be in the sewing room, there is still work to be done on the hangings.” 

I watch her disappear down the steps and without warning my legs begin to tremble and my breath comes fast and shallow. I lean back against the wall to steady myself before I go back into Raymond’s chamber.

“You need to be cleansed of every speck of grime before I begin” Ansélme is casting his eyes over Raymond.

I grab a jug and dip it first into the hot and then the cold water “Let me help you Brother.” Before he answers I dump the contents over Raymond’s head making him jolt and splutter. Wetting a cloth I rub the soap onto it and work it over his back, trying where I can and none too gently to ease the knots in his muscles. A low growl of satisfaction escapes him, he’s almost purring and I can’t deny the feel of his skin beneath my fingers is pleasing.

“I shall insist that once we are married this will be a regular occurrence. What do you say Isabé?”

“I say you’re a fool, because you haven’t listened to what I said.”

“Of course I listened, I just choose to ignore it. Make no mistake you’ll stand beside me on the Cathedral steps on Saturday.” His voice is calm, matter of fact and sets my temper flaring.

“I will not”

I fetch Raymond a wallop across the back of his head that would have unseated a lesser man.

 “Bitch.”

“Bastard.”

 “I’ve told you Raymond, unless you deal fair with me and trust me I won’t be there, not even if you use the hounds of hell to drag me.”

“And I have told you I don't care to discuss those parts of my life with you, so you had best resign yourself to it.”

He slides round on the stool and faces me now, speaking in a gentle voice. “For your sanity and your safety, believe me it is best you don’t know.”

I feel I am losing control but I don’t care and screech at him.

“You think you will shock me, I don’t care about this.” He winces as I jab my index finger hard into one of the bruises on his chest. I don’t care over much about some well paid little vixen raking your flesh and sinking her fangs into you.”

“Then that is all to the good, for I wouldn’t want you to be jealous my darling.” He smirks, shoots out his hand and makes a grab for my wrist but I side step him and deliver another hard smack, this time across his face. “I do care about what has happened in your past though, the good and the bad, I want to know what makes you the man you are and you won’t let me into that place.”

I raise my hand again.

“Enough, both of you.” Ansélme’s voice booms out and from behind he grabs my arm “Isabé stop, it’s enough that I have the knife wound to deal with, I can do without you trying to hack more lumps from his flesh.”

I try to wrench my arm away but his grip is too strong and with bad grace I surrender.

“Of course Brother.” I paste an innocent look on my face then stare pointedly at Raymond’s groin. “Your braies, take them off.” As he unfastens the ties Raymond presses his lips together to stifle his smile but he can’t hide the sparkle of amusement in his eyes as he lets them drop.

 “Not one word Raymond, not one.” I threaten.

I feel the flush rise in my cheeks, my mouth dries and I lick at my lips. Dear Lord he is beautiful to look at and I can hardly pull my eyes away. To hide my lack of composure I slap a wet soapy cloth against his chest and he grabs at it before it slides off him into the tub.

“I’m sure you can take care of that.” I drop my gaze downwards again “It’s of very little consequence, so I doubt it will take you long and when you’re done I’ll remove your bandages.” His eyes glitter and flash as the corner of his mouth lifts in a smile.

I should be angry with Raymond but I can't find it in me, the sight of him sends a fierce heat racing through me, it flares and burns then as I remember his hands on me, his mouth on mine the fire settles deep in my belly and pulses between my thighs. The smug look on his face tells me he knows just how easily he can make me loathe him one moment and desire him the next.

“ ** _Damn you Raymond.”_** It is a half-hearted curse.

“The contents of your medicine boxes are as fresh and neatly ordered as they should be Isabé.” Ansélme distracts me but I still burn for Raymond and little is lost on that good Benedictine as I turn to face him trying to regain my composure,

“Thank you brother, but then I had an excellent teacher.”

“You said something about removing the dressing Isabé my darling.” The words drip from Raymond’s mouth like honey. Oh how I itch to slap him again.

He has wrapped a long drying cloth around him, it falls from waist to ankle covering those long well shaped thighs and what is set between them. Even so my fingers tremble as I try to remove the dressing and he grins at me as I worry and tug at the wetted knot of the bandage

“Oh fuck it to hell.”

Raymond’s shoulders shake with laughter and Ansélme coughs to hide his snigger.

I reach for the knife hanging from my belt, free it from the sheath and slide it up under the cloth, Raymond breathes in sharply as the cool metal touches his skin.  A twist outwards, an upwards slice and the wet bandage parts company with itself.

“Hellfire Isabé, you said was a table knife.”

“It is, but it’s an exceptionally sharp one.”  I grin up at him. His eyes open wide, his brows fly almost to his hairline as he remembers my pointing it at his balls.

He settles onto his bed between cool linen sheets. The upper sheet is pushed down to his hips and his wound covered only by a square of clean linen and the drying cloth is folded into a thick pad beneath his right hip ,His left arm is tucked up beneath his head,

As Ansélme bids me, I trickle old wine onto the gaping wound to clean it, Raymond hisses in his breath at the burn and sting and snaps at the Benedictine

“For Christ’s sake you damned carrion crow, stop poking about, just stitch the fucking thing up and be done with it”

The younger man shoots him a withering look “Patience my friend, what I do now will save you from a deal of trouble and pain later”

Stooping low, the “Carrion Crow” peers, prods and sniffs. I hear them muttering together, as I prepare everything Ansélme has asked for. Only once does Raymond raise his voice to the Benedictine in a loud “No!” His temper isn’t at its best and he doesn’t know whether to direct it at himself, me, or the Black Monk and as he endures our “tender” ministrations he rumbles and growls at us both.

In another life Brother Ansélme lived in the world and not once has he commented on the other marks on Raymond’s body but of course he knows what they are. Raymond catches the look in his eyes and half-jokingly offers to confess. 

The Brother smiles “Well as to that Sieur Raymond, confess to me or not as your conscience dictates, but sooner or later you will be required to justify yourself to  God.”

“That’s as maybe my friend but I think I must justify myself to someone else first.” Raymond turns to me with a gentle smile.

*“Tout ce que je te demanderai, c’est que tu me donnes du temps, es-tu prêt à le faire? es-tu prêt à me faire confiance mon chéri isabé?”

His sudden change of heart takes me by surprise but I have no time to answer as Raymond’s smile turns to a grimace. “For Christ’s Sake Man.” He jerks upwards, hips arching high from the bed and as one hand twists in the covers the other shoots towards me, the pain of his fingers digging into my fore arm brings tears to my eyes.

Brother Ansélme, busy cleaning away any dead and suspect matter from the wound has pared down to the healthy skin. Raymond’s sudden movement causes Ansélme’s hand to slip and his calm demeanour deserts him.

“This knife is killing sharp, keep still you arse, that is of course unless you have a desire for the de Merville cock to be detached from the de Merville balls.”  In spite of my efforts not to I laugh I fail and it comes out as a snort.

Raymond sucks in his breath, scowls at us both then lays as still as he can while the Benedictine works quickly to stitch the  flesh together, eventually there will be another scar to add to the collection criss crossing his skin. 

“Done, now all you need is rest my friend, two days in the saddle has done you no favours.”

Ansélme hands a cup to Raymond who downs the contents in one then flops back on the pillows, eyes closed, lashes curved like two dark crescents against his pale skin.

“He will drift to sleep soon,” Ansélme whispers “It isn’t a strong draught but it will help him rest.”

“Thank you Brother, should I go and find someone to stay with him? The Baron will expect me to be in hall soon and I must go and change.”

“No, I shall stay with him for now, the Abbot has given me dispensation to remain for as long as necessary.”

As I step towards the bed Raymond opens his eyes and reaches out to me with his left hand, a soft, smile lifts the corners of his mouth as he laces his fingers through mine.

“Sit with me for a while Isabé.”

“Raymond I have to go, I must be in hall with your Father and His Majesty”

“Promise me you will come back later.”

“I promise to come back as soon as I can, now rest, I want you fit for our wedding.” 

“Wedding?” He closes his eyes again and whispers. “I think you will be my salvation Isabé”

“Perhaps, but I am more likely to be a goad than a godsend.”

Fighting the effects of the draught now, his speech is a little slurred. “I have lived all my life with risks and hazards, one more will make no difference.” He draws my hand towards his lips and presses a kiss to my fingers, his breathing slows, his eyelids droop and as he settles back his hand slips from mine.

“I’ll send someone to clear the room for you and of course bring some food and wine Ansélme unless you would prefer ale?”

“Anything will be most welcome Isabé, thank you.”

“I'll send Guillaume he will be back soon and  I know he will wish to see how Raymond fares.”

Ansélme nods, “I’m sure he will.” It’s clear he knows about Guillaume.

 

Blanche watches me as I step down into the Hall and Eleanor’s words bounce into my head, “Grace and Dignity.” Nervously I smooth my dress down and it pales against the rich fashionable clothes of those Court Ladies who have accompanied their husbands from Paris.

The Hall is full and as if the day isn’t warm enough, the mass of bodies crammed together makes it warmer still, the sickly reek of rain dampened wool and heady perfumes hangs in the air. I am conscious of several pairs of eyes scrutinizing me, of criticisms and comments whispered just loud enough for me to hear as I walk towards Blanche. Whilst none of them are particularly scathing, neither are they overly flattering.

“Isabé,” Blanche reaches out her hands to grasp mine and draws me towards her. “How beautiful you look, this shade of green suits you well Daughter. Raymond has such exquisite taste, if every gown he has gifted you is as elegant as this you are very fortunate.” I know her words are not just meant for me, she is daring anyone close by to comment further, they don’t.

Blanche whispers against my ear. “That’s quieted the high bred bitches in the kennel,” then she gently kisses each cheek.

“How is Raymond?”

“I should think he is sleeping by now, he will be much better once he has had some rest.”

“You aren’t telling me all are you?”

“I take it Guillaume has been gossiping?”

She links her arm through mine and we make our way to the edge of the hall. “You mustn’t blame him Isabé, isn’t that what younger brothers are meant to do, tell tales about their Sisters?”   

Her eyes twinkle wickedly as a broad smile reaches them.

“Now tell me girl.” So I begin and I may as well tell all, for Blanche is cunning enough to worm it out of me. 

 

“I wish you would take some sedatif, why are you being so pig-headed?”

Raymond is wide awake, the loud NO that Isabé heard was his response to the suggestion he should take more poppy syrup.

“Ansélme we’ve both seen what happens to those who take too much. Master Martel gave me a dose that would have felled an ox, and then gave me more to use on the road, I threw it away. Besides when I was fighting I wouldn’t have used it for a wound such as this, I would have been back in the saddle by now.

You know Raymond, you really are a fucking imbecile, a little will help you rest quietly, I can’t claim my needlework is the best.” He grins at Raymond’s sour expression. “But I’d rather not to have to sew you together a second time if you rip the stitches.

Raymond opens one eye and smirks at the Black Monk. “I wager you're a real thorn in the side of the Abbot, tell me how much of your day do you spend confessing and doing penance?”

Ignoring him for a few moments, Ansélme gathers up the medicines and places them back either in Isabé’s boxes or his own bag. Anything for burning is bundled together and he uses some of the old wine to wash down the table.

“Will you tell Isabé the truth?”

Shuffling up onto the pillows, Raymond screws up his face as the stiches pull against the tender flesh.

“As far as it goes yes, but I shan’t tell her everything, I can’t lay that on her.”

Ansélme tries to pass him a cup of wine and poppy Raymond waves him away.

 

His Majesty commands that I sit beside him at High Table and it throws Fournier’s well laid plans into a little confusion as he rearranges the seating to accommodate a disgruntled Lady and her Lord shuffling them along to a less exalted place. Philip is charming, handsome, learned and amusing but beneath it all runs a streak of sheer ruthlessness. He makes me laugh and draws me out of myselfalittle but I can’t concentrate, my mind is never far from Raymond and he knows it.

“You have captured his heart Isabé, I believe it was an incident involving a potter, his apprentice and and expensive jug that decided him.”

“You know about that?”

“Oh that and more.” I can’t hold his gaze and turn my attention to shoving my food around. I think my heart has dropped to my stomach.

**_“What in God’s name has Raymond told him?”_ **

He leans in closer offering sweetmeats from his own dish, that honour escapes no one and I must accept. With that small act my position has been established.

“Tell me has he courted you well?”

I laugh out loud and tap my hand down on the table. “Sire, I have known Raymond de merville for less than a two weeks and we have spent so little time together that until he returned home I didn’t even know the date of the wedding, so his courting of me has been lacking at best.”

"But forgive me Sire I haven’t enquired, are your chamber’s to your liking, is there anything you need?”

“Have no worry Mam’selle everything is excellent, although.” He hesitates for a moment “I find the mattress is a little too soft, I understand that you are the person who can solve that problem for me.”

The smile returns and broadens to a wide grin as the King himself takes my hand and brushes his lips against it. “Forgive me Isabé just my little joke,”

“It’s perfectly true Sire, I am the one to ask and I can easily dispose of the old one for you.” I try to keep my face straight and fail miserably

“No matter that you are so much younger than Raymond, I believe you to be the perfect match for my bad tempered old warrior my dear. Now might I suggest you stop worrying your food?” he glances down at the mess on my platter. “I can tell you won’t settle until you have seen that he is mending so go, you have my permission”

I don’t need a second telling and with what I hope isn’t unseemly haste, I scramble from my seat drop a deep curtsey and leave the high table, pausing only briefly to speak to Blanche and Henri.

As I reach the stairs I notice Théo Fontaine, he is speaking to someone in the shadows and as he steps away slightly he sees me and flashes me a deeply repellent smile.

It’s only when I reach the corridor, I remember exactly what It was I saw in the half light. Before Théo caught sight of me he was standing forehead to forehead with Ghislane, her hands were laid against his cheeks, and her expression was one of absolute tenderness as she looked up at him. I have seen Blanche bestow that look on Guillaume, it is the look of Mother to a son, though Ghislane told me herself that she has no children. My heart freezes in my chest and I am releived to step into the calm of Raymonds Chamber.

I close the door quietly and stand completely still, Raymond is asleep his chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm the only noises of any note are the hissing of the rain as it lashes down past the window and Ansélme praying, it is the hour of Compline. I wait until he has finished his devotions before I step farther into the room.

“I shall leave you now Isabé, I’m sure you’ll be able to deal with the patient, as stubborn and bloody minded as he is.”

“Thank you Brother, I think but will you really go back to the Abbey tonight, the doors will be bolted by now surely? I can arrange a bed for you”

We speak in whispers so as not to disturb Raymond.

“The porter knows I might return at any time.” He gathers his scrip and slings it across his back. “Take good care of him and not just the wound, don’t judge him too harshly.”

“Good night Isabé.” He makes the sign of the cross in blessing and leaves closing the door quietly behind him.

In the darkening room I step over to the bed and watch the man I am set to marry on Saturday. There may be greying at his temples, strands of grey in his hair and beard but his usually severe expression is softened and smoothed by sleep and I imagine I can see something of the young Raymond. With a low groan of discomfort, screws up his face, shifts in his sleep then settles again. Dark hairs nestle in the hollow of his throat, spread down and out across his upper chest, fine hairs strewn across the skin. I stretch my fingers towards him but he stirs again so I step back and pad quietly around to the other side of bed to take the other pillows. Raymond’s large throne like chair is solid and uncomfortable and it is a long time until morning, the pillows may help prevent a stiff back and numb backside. As quietly as I can I turn it slightly to face the bed and place a stool in front of it for my feet. Veil removed, dress discarded and hair loose I settle myself, wiggling my body into the down filled pillows.

A sheer animal cry jolts me awake, my heart thuds fast and loud. I am out of the chair and half way to the bed before I realise It. Moving so quickly has made me feel dizzy and nauseous I can barely breathe. Bile rises in my throat and coloured stars burst and flash behind my eyelids as I stand still and wait for it all to pass. I have no Idea how long I have been asleep,

Raymond roars out again, arms flailing as if he is wielding weapons, legs moving as if he is trying to run. Suddenly he sits bolt upright, muddled, confused words pour out of his mouth, his eyes are almost black eyes and blown wide yet he sees nothing, or at least nothing that is in this room only what is in his own head. Spittle flies from his mouth and as he shouts out commands to rally his men his face sets into a dark contorted mask. Then he yells about blood, forgiveness and damnation as his lips draw back in grim imitation of a smile. For a moment he stills and I whisper  to him, I daren’t do anything which might provoke him.

“Raymond, Raymond, please listen, it’s alright,” I stretch out my hand to stroke his damp hair and notice the sheen of sweat on his skin. Before I can touch him he cries out again, it begins as a low keening whine and grows into a howl.

**_“Think Isabé, think, do something you fool before he hurts himself, before he tears open the wound. But what the hell am I to do”_ **

I move forward slowly and sit on the edge of the bed. As he falls back onto the pillows his whole body trembles then a second onslaught sends him upright again and with such force that as I shift out of his way, I tumble from my perch and fall on the floor wedging myself between the bed and the chest. Swearing, muttering and scrambling onto my knees I look up at him, his dark eyes still see nothing. He is perfectly still now staring towards the window. My cheek throbs, I must have cracked it on the chest. I touch it lightly and when I look at my fingers there is blood.

“Raymond.” I speak quietly and he turns his head slowly towards me as I settle back on the edge of the bed

“Isabé, you came back.” There is not a shred of emotion in his voice.

“Yes, I promised I would.”

I need to touch him and gently stroke the back of my hand down his arm. His skin is warm, I feel the tickle of the hairs against my fingers.

Then he notices, “ Isabé your face, what happened to your cheek, Oh sweet Christ no I....”

“It wasn’t you,” I smile to reassure him. “It was an accident.” And as I explain the hollowness leaves his eyes, he touches my face again and I try not to wince.

“I know you won’t remember Raymond so don’t try, just sleep.”

“I knew there would come a time when you would see my worst, I hoped it would be later rather than sooner.”

“I need no explanation, Mon Coeur just rest.”

He settles back and I notice his right hand pressed over the dressing on his wound.”

“Does it give you pain, can I get you wine and poppy?”

He lays back on his pillows eyes closed and gives a shake of his head. “No, I don’t need it, I need only you Isabé.” His voice is no more than a whisper but I hear him plain enough.

I am ready to move away but he opens his eyes and without a word he holds out his left hand to me, and he pulls back the sheet with his right. 

I swallow hard, shiver ** _"Oh to hell with it, I don't care what anyone might think of me.”_**

 **** **** ****And before my courage deserts me I tug my shift over my head and slide in beside him curling against his side as he wraps his arms around me. Raymond's breathing steadies, he skims his hand down my side, under my thigh and hitches my leg up and across his hips.  He doesn’t speak but tightens his embrace, like a drowning man clinging to a rock.

“Will you be my safe haven Isabé?”

I feel the press of his lips to my temple.

“You know I will.”

 

* The School of Medicine at Montpelier the Oldest surviving Medical school in Europe. It is certainly much older than it’s formal date of foundation of 1289 when the schools were combined into a University. There were certainly Physicians there as early as 1137.

 *All I will ask of you is that you give me time, are you willing to do that, are you willing to trust me my darling Isabé?”

 


	22. Chapter 22

Raymond’s chest rises and falls beneath my cheek, I smile and press my lips against his skin as I do his arms tighten around me a little more. He did not so much invite me into his bed, rather he gave a silent crie de coeur and I could not refuse him. Within moments of pulling me into his arms and pressing a warm kiss to my temple he is drifting to sleep. I can't blame him, He's exhausted and in pain but selfishly a tiny little piece of my heart feels slighted that he chooses to close his eyes and do no more than press a single kiss to my temple.

Sleep may have come easily to Raymond but not to me. My mind whirls with what I saw as approached the stairs, each time I close my eyes I see Théo and Ghislane and wonder what they are to each other. I had once loved him Théo Fontaine, even though there were times when he treated me ill but best not to dwell on that and I am certain now that he never loved me. Deep down have always known that his whispered words of love and affection were nothing more than a sop thrown to me.

He was always a little ruthless, predatory even, now he appears more so and something about him sets my nerves on edge. Looking back, everything about our time together now seems a sham.

Could the gossip about his wife be true, did he really murder her? I recall the expression on his face, when he realised I’d seen him and it was feral, I don’t doubt that he could have done it. Bile rises in my throat and I shiver as I wonder should I tell him about the child?

**_“No, it isn’t your business you bastard, you gave up any right to know when you walked away and abandoned me for a rich wife at court.”_ **

My eyelids feel heavy. The gentle sound of Raymond’s breathing and the hissing of the rain is lulling me to sleep and I curl closer to him. All the while, as I have laid wrapped around him he has stroked his hand gently back and forth along my leg from thigh to knee as if it soothes him somehow. But as I rest my left hand against his chest, he moves his hand to lay it over mine. Raymond seems to sense my disquiet and tightens his other arm around me. I feel his warm breath as he mutters something against my hair. Drifting into sleep I realise what he has said.

*“Tu es ma vie, mon amour, mon cœur.ʺ*

It is not only Isabé who has noticed Théo and Ghislane, Eleanor has missed nothing. Without hesitating she weaves her way through the chattering crowd and towards the King. Philip is engaged in conversation but he sees her, gives the slightest nod of his head and the moment he is alone she steps towards him and curtsies. As she speaks quietly to him his expression hardly changes but his eyes grow hard and cold. “I will await you in my chamber Madame, best we discuss this in a more private setting.”

Théo watches her closely and shudders, Eleanor Forrestier is a dangerous bitch. Sweeping a quick glance around the room he catches sight of Ghislane in the shadows beneath the arcade, she nods to him the moment he catches her eye. When he looks back Eleanor has disappeared, melted away into the crush of people and the king is striding towards his chamber deep in conversation with the Baron.

Fontaine motions a page over to fill his wine cup then, strolls leisurely around the Hall, sharing a joke here, a laugh there, dropping in and out of conversations. Though beneath his veneer of affable good humour, he is as taut as a bow string.

By way of small rooms and narrow corridors known only to those who live within the Chateau, Eleanor has made her way to The King’s chamber. This visit may not be a Grand Progress for Philip but nevertheless the King is the King and his door is guarded by two well-armed soldiers. There is no bar though to Eleanor Forrestier, they know who she is and as one guard salutes her the other steps aside and pushes open the door. If she is surprised to see the Baron she doesn’t show it.

 Philip has made this room his own, when he travels he doesn’t travel lightly even on a “private” visit such as this. The furnishings have been replaced with his own trappings. Folding seats, a throne like chair, linens, red and gold hangings and even a bed which can be taken apart for travelling. All are painted in bright blue and rich red, accented in gold. His own wine cups and ewers are set on the table, a gilded, jewelled reliquary and small but ornate crucifix are set on the larger of his personal travelling chests. Yes the King’s possessions reflect his power, wealth and status but Eleanor finds them overpowering, gaudy, and to her eye a little tasteless. They make the room feel even more oppressive in this sultry weather.

Philip himself pours wine for Eleanor and hands her the cup, there are no servants present though she is certain he has someone closeted behind the door to the adjoining room.

“So Gauthier, do I take it you approve of Raymonds choice of wife?”

Gauthier de Merville glances across to Eleanor, he has always liked her, admired her even and this must be at least a little painful for her, yet she smiles at him over the rim of her wine cup.

“I doubt anything I could say on the subject would carry any weight with my son Majesty, he is a grown man and knows his own mind best, though if I’m honest I think despite her confidence Isabé might not prove a match for him.” He stares pointedly at Eleanor she glances from Philip to Gauthier and back to Philip and laughs.

"Monseigneur, I’m sure Isabè will prove to be a most suitable wife for Raymond, whereas I, most definitely would not that. She already has his measure and  will never be a simpering little wife.” Eleanor takes a sip of her wine. “More than that she will give him give some stability and be a fixed point in his life. It’s what he needs and it is something I can’t provide, as you well know it doesn’t sit well with our particular profession.”

“As wise as ever Eleanor” Philip smiles she nods her head in acknowledgement. Both men know very well what that little speech has cost her and for few moments there is a regretful silence hanging in the air.

“Now with respect Majesty, I think we should turn to more important matters.” 

It is rare for Eleanor to show her true feelings but neither Philip nor Gauthier miss the catch in her voice

"So, Eleanor, tell us, what is your opinion?” Philip is always is direct. “Do you fear for Raymond’s safety?”

“Yes, and also for Isabé’s. Guillaume is back in the fold and is no longer a problem. Geoffrey Maçon is gone but those two are a real force. If what we know is true then they have a wide network. I’m sure you are already aware that information about your troop movements to the South have already made the ears of the renegades.”

Philip nods and smiles at his well-informed agent.

"Indeed Eleanor and sensibly Ramon of Toulouse has already joined us and helps to keep us well appraised, he values his own safety too highly to defy the Church but his Nephew Trencavel, is another matter and he is holding fast against His Holiness.”

The Baron snorts “Trenceval always was and always will be a fucking fool.”

“We are all fools at one time or another Monseigneur” Eleanor’s retort is sharp” “If you really want my honest opinion, I think his Holiness is the biggest fool of all. If his Church can’t stand a little competition from the Cathars then so be it”. She shrugs “This has been rumbling for years why he doesn’t he just let it pass, who are they harming?”

Philip is a devout man but nonetheless he admires Eleanor’s stand, he is even a little amused by it and tries to supress a smile.

“Have a care Eleanor.” The Baron’s voice rumbles around the room. “Heresy is a serious matter, should anyone outside these walls hear your words, it is likely you will be arraigned and executed.”

She raises her eyebrows and smiles sweetly. “Baron, you and I both know that a charge of Heresy would simply be one more entry at the end of a very long list of my transgressions and possibly not the worst.”

Studying both men closely she addresses the King.

“What are you not telling me Sire?

“I think this is mostly your story Gauthier.” Philip yields to the Baron.

"As you wish Sire”

Frowning, Eleanor looks from one to the other as Gauthier de Merville takes a swallow of wine.

“Eleanor you may or may not know that Théo Fontaine and Ghislane Bérenger are Mother and son.

“I did not know” Her voice is calm and she hides it very well that she is furious with herself for that gap in her knowledge.

“That information was known to me,” Philp smiles at her, “And to Gauthier, Individually each of them is dangerous.” Philip shakes his head “Together they could well prove lethal”

“It was also known to my darling Marguerite, God rest her.” Gauthier cuts in.

Eleanor smiles, it is not often the Baron refers to his late wife, let alone in such affectionate terms, even after almost 30 years he still feels the pain of her loss more deeply than most people imagine.

“Ghislane’s husband was Luc Roussel one of my best men, possibly _the_ best. Fierce, brave and I thought loyal, he rose high and fast. My trust in him was unfounded and I had him executed when he was found to be passing information to our enemies, not just in Ireland but elsewhere. Rather than lay the charge of treason against him he was tried and convicted on charges of looting and murder. He never revealed anything to us and went to his death laughing.”

Eleanor twists the stem of her cup between long fingers, a tingle runs down her spine and she is uneasy.

“I assume the lesser charge was to try draw out any other agents, or to give them false security?”

“Both”. Philip and Gauthier answer together.

“And was Ghislane one of those other agents?”

Now that the king is seated, Gauthier follows suit, he takes a swallow of wine.

“There was no evidence against her.”

“Simply because you could not discover any Monseigneur does not mean....”

Gaulthier cuts her off sharply. “Nothing was discovered because at the time there was nothing to discover Madame Forrestier.”

“Your pardon Monseigneur.” Eleanor bows her head and yields to him as he continues.

“Ghislane damned near lost her mind at Luc’s death and became too ill to serve in her new position as Marguerite’s companion. I arranged for her to be lodged at the convent where they could could care for her. When the child was born she wouldn’t nurse him, didn’t even want to look at him and so he was fostered out to the Fontaines to be brought up by them. She was in a poor, ravaged state of mind for some time and for her own reasons has always maintained she never had children. ”

“How fortunate Monseigneur, forgive me, but that kind of madness can be feigned and she could easily have given up her child to the Fontaine’s knowing that he would be cared for and she would have easy access. A child can be a hindrance to someone like Ghislane”

Eleanor and Gauthier hold each other’s look and Eleanor could kick herself for having said that aloud, she and Ghislane are two sides of the same coin but she could never give up her daughter.

“Has Nicolette ever been a hindrance to you Eleanor?” As soon as the words leave his lips the Baron regrets it 

“I believe you can answer that for yourself Monseigneur.” Eleanor narrows her eyes at him for a moment then returns to the matter in hand.

“But why bring Ghislane back here?”

“I felt I owed her something, in spite of what Luc had done so why not bring her here to take up the post she had been offered, especially as Marguerite was most unwell.

“Why did she take up her Maiden name of Bérenger?”

“I have no idea, perhaps she thought people would assume she wanted nothing more to do with the name of Roussel. I admit to having being deceived by that conniving bitch but it was only much later the extent of her treachery was discovered though it was decided that she should be allowed to live.”

“Why? Surely it would have been a very simple matter Monseigneur.”

"Because I forbade it.” At the sound of Philip’s soft, silky voice Eleanor turns to her King.

“She had been the one in complete control not only of Luc, but of many others. Her network of contacts and agents was impressive in fact second to none and it was certainly in our own interests to recruit her as a double agent.”  

“We gave her just enough accurate details to make her seem credible. But for some time her information seems to have been either outdated, false or at the least tenuous.” As he looks down at the floor Gauthier suddenly feels very old.”

“So Sire, on a whim you allowed her to continue passing information resulting in the needless deaths of our own men.”

An expression of anger passes Philip’s face, disappearing almost as quickly as it appeared.”

“I do not act on whims Madame Forrestier, and as for needless, I think of it as sacrificing the few for the many.”

_**“Oh the hubris of Kings.”**_ Eleanor shakes her head and anger burns in her, she itches to slap her Sovereign for his arrogance in playing with the lives of his agents and soldiers

“Are you telling me that this has been going on for almost thirty years, God men are such fools.”

“I am inclined to agree with you on that point Eleanor.” Philip does not react to Gauthiers anguished look when he grinds out “ I am certain she murdered Marguerite.”

Eleanor gasps out loud.

“It could never be proven, Marguerite was in such pain with her illness that it needed a strong draught to dull it, who can tell whether it was enough to end her life?”

Gauthier’s face pales at the memory, his hand trembles as he lifts the wine cup to his lips.

“I believe in my heart she was responsible, I believe it was revenge for the death of Luc and I think that apart from anything else her mind never fully healed and it is failing again, I fear for all of my family.” He smiles at Eleanor, “That of course includes you my dear” he takes hold of her hand and raises it to his lips.

“What of Theo, what is his purpose?” She frowns up at the Baron but it is Philip who answers.

“He is driven by ambition and revenge in equal measure he wants to be near the throne to work against it and I have no doubt he intends to make suffer anyone involved in his father’s execution.”

“Well stepping into Maçon’s shoes has certainly secured his advancement,”

“Indeed Madame, and to have him close is preferable to keeping him at arm’s length as for you Gauthier I should keep a close watch on Ghislane, and take steps to safeguard your granddaughter and your daughter-in-law, they could prove easy targets.

Before the Baron can answer, one thump rattles the heavy door, it swings inwards and the Guard begins to announce Théo Fontaine

“Imbecile, I am His Majesty’s Envoy, he knows who I am.”

As he strides in the guard scowls at his back. Théo presents himself to the King, then turns to the others with a smile that makes him look like a benevolent bat 

“Monseigneur Baron, he extends his hand and grudgingly the Baron takes it.

“Fontaine, welcome.” Gauthier’s greeting is cold enough to freeze the pizzle off a bull.

“Théo, welcome." Eleanor crosses to greet him, a wonderful if fake smile plastered on her face. “It is an age since we saw each other and the first time since you arrived that I have had the chance to properly welcome you.” She holds out her hand, he clasps it and smiles a tight little smile.

“As beautiful as ever Eleanor.” Then as he stoops to kiss each cheeks whispers.

“Is really your place to welcome me to the Chateau Eleanor, you are no longer Raymond’s Mistress so you hold no authority but I will accept your good wishes.”

The smile sets on Eleanor’s face as she answers quietly “Indeed that is true enough, however I am still the Mother of his child and I know he would defend me had he cause to do so.” It is a threat and though politely put Théo understands completely.

 

Blanche say she knew when I was happy as a child because when I slept I lay on my back. Always with my left arm shoved up under the pillow, my right hand resting on my stomach. It follows then that I am happy.

I don’t want Raymond to know that I’m awake yet. He lays on his uninjured side with his left arm under the pillow and hand curled gently around mine. His right arm is draped across me, long calloused fingers gently tracing swirling patterns on my right hip. Our feet and legs are tangled together and I feel content to lie here in the warmth of the early morning.

There is a hint of a laugh in the warm breath that ghosts against my ear as soft words roll out.

"I know you're awake Isabe."

I lie still and don’t answer.

The hairs of his beard tickle my skin as he brushes gentle kisses along my ear ending in a nip to the lobe. A shiver runs through me and the smallest purring sound lodges in my throat as I turn my head towards him and slowly open one eye.

“How could you tell?”

“By your breathing, the sound and rhythm of it, by the way your breasts rise and fall.” His blue eyes are dark, hot, full of mischief and desire.

“You are talking nonsense!” Suddenly I am aware of the warmth of his skin where it presses against mine and feel heat rising in my cheeks.

“Oh I have been very thorough in my study Isabé, in fact I would say it verges on the scholarly.” He smirks like a naughty schoolboy and as he shifts and slides down the bed a little his grin broadens. Through half opened eyes I watch him as he dips his head, deliberately grazing his beard against the pale skin of my right breast.

“For instance I believe this one is a little larger than the other.”   

I stare down wide eyed now, mesmerised as he licks at his lips then latches them onto me. My mouth drops open and a little mewl of surprise squeaks out. He does not nip, scrape or bite but lazily licks his tongue around and over my nipple coaxing it to hardness, before one last flick and a whisper of warm breath over the damp skin. 

Sharp and sweet an ache shoots straight down me and stalls between my thighs. Without taking his eyes from mine he slowly strokes his right hand up over my belly and ribs and cups it around my right breast. The lightest brush of his thumb over the already tightening tip sends another jolt through me, my thighs tighten of their own accord, my skin tingles and raises into gooseflesh. 

He is certainly not Theo, for I could have said “no” to Raymond and he would have stopped, I'm certain of it. 

**_"But I hadn’t wanted him to stop,_** **_you I couldn’t pretend otherwise."_**

Nonetheless, I try to convince the both of us that I am annoyed and so I swat him smartly across the back of his head.

“You Sieur Raymond are very forward!” 

His roar of laughter bounces from the walls.

“Isabé, I swear to God you are the only woman on Earth I know who could say that and mean it, whilst lying naked in my bed" 

He shifts and winces.

“It still pains you?”

“Not so much now.”

“You idiot.” I rest my hand against his face and stroke his beard. “You should have woken me, I would have mixed you something to ease it.” He presses his lips against my palm.

“There was no need.” Lids close over blue eyes, dark lashes flutter against his cheeks for a moment, he sounds almost embarrassed and he flushes a little as he speaks again. “Thank you Isabé for having the courage to stay with me.” As he tightens his arms around me he frowns.

“Mon Coeur, your poor face, am I to blame for that?” 

His lips are gentle against my cheek.

“You couldn’t help it, I told you it was an accident.”

“You did? I don’t remember that.” He whispers “but then I rarely remember” there is a sad resignation in his voice.

“I take it there’s a bruise?”

He looks down at me with a rueful smile. “Yes a large one it’s a very pretty shade of purple and you have a lump the size of a sparrow’s egg.”

“Well no doubt it will be a sickly shade of green come Saturday. I only hope my veil will hide it.”

There is laughter in his voice again. “So you have decided to marry me?” 

“Yes and I only hope I don’t come to regret it.”

I begin to laugh. “What a pair we make, I am naked in your bed and you are as bare arsed as the day you were born. Tongues will surely wag, not that I care one way or the other.”

I shuffle higher up onto the pillows and Raymond hitches up beside me settling on his side, head propped in his hand. He reaches across to tuck strands of hair behind my ear and there is a sober look on his face.

"Let me clean the cut for you?”

“There really is no need Raymond, I can tend to it later.”

“Stubborn as ever.” He presses another gentle kiss to the cut. “Do you really not care what anyone might think of you for staying with me?”

“No one’s opinion of me has ever mattered overmuch.” 

“Not even mine?” He grins at me again and as his eyes lock onto mine he strokes his fingers along my shoulder leaving burning trails on my skin, I stare straight back at him.

“No, not even yours, why should it? After all you don’t really know me” He seems more than a little taken aback at that, as if he expects me to simper and solicit his approval, if does is then he will have a long damned wait. His voice is subdued when he answers.

“I know enough of you Isabé, to know you are brave, clever, strong minded to the point of wilfulness and you are kind.”

It is my turn to laugh.

“You make me sound like a candidate for a nunnery, though I doubt I’d last very long, I’d certainly spend more time doing penance than anything else.” 

He snorts, “Hellfire, Henri, would have to pay through the nose for them to take you, I doubt they’d even consider you without the promise of a vast acreage and half your body weight in gold.” 

“Wretch.”

I catch him unawares and with one quick push overbalance him, as he falls he wraps his arms tight around me holding me to him and as he lands on his back I am sprawled across him our faces almost touching. Warm skin settles against warm skin and I can feel the beat of his heart, it is certainly faster than before.

“Full marks for effort Mon Coeur but none for execution, always make sure you know the strength and skill of your adversary.”

"Bastard.”

He threads the fingers of his left hand into my hair and my oath is lost in his sweet kiss as he pulls me even closer. I feel his other hand slide down over my backside and under my thigh hitching it up.

“You do know I love you Isabé?” His voice is no more than a whisper.

Mischief is in my mind, I wiggle out of his arms and boldly straddle his thighs.

“You’ve already said as much to me but love is a convenient little word Raymond, people use it when they mean it of course they do, but they also use it to get something they want. In all honesty I can’t say I love you.”

His expression doesn’t change.

“But I will concede that I have grown to like you and you are a very handsome man, the scars on your face and body do nothing to change that.”

I lean forward a little and slide my hands up his thighs, making sure my thumbs brush the edge of the dark thatch of hair and slide along between thigh and hip. His swelling cock twitches and a hiss of breath escapes him.

I slide my hands down and then back up his thighs. Suddenly I freeze and hold my breath, shocked by my own bold and reckless behaviour, aware of the heat and muscle of his thighs beneath me, conscious of our nakedness. Nevertheless as I look down at him I am unable to stop myself licking at my lips and when I look back up at him his eyes are burning hot.

Now I feel daring, fearless a delicious sense of wantonness surges through me. “I know you want me Raymond.” My voice slides out throaty and low.

“Yes my darling of course I do, can’t you tell” he winks, laughs and glances down at himself “I want you as much as you want me and you do want me Isabé, I can feel your heat and wetness against my thighs.” His voice is like warm honey, at the sound of it the heat flares through my body again and the ache between my thighs is almost painful but it is such a sweet pain. I stare down at  him and gnaw at my lower lip to stop myself from smiling.

**_“Dear God in Heaven, Théo Fontaine falls very short of Raymond in every way.”_ **

Emboldened again I brush the back of my hand up the soft skin of his cock then trail just one index finger back down the thick vein. His head tilts back his breath sighs out slowly and as I stroke him gently he grabs at my hips.”  Tilting forward I slide my hands up to his chest his nipples harden at my touch, he growls as I rake them with my nails and shivers when drop forward to swirl my tongue around each one in turn. As I lick at the hollow of his throat I  taste the saltiness of his skin and the low throaty noise Raymond gives out sounds like the purring of a large cat

“Isabé, you know that if you stand too close to a fire you are like to get burned and believe me girl I can and _will_ burn you.” I shudder at his words even though his voice is soft and his hands are gentle as he strokes my back and hair, quietly he adds. “But never, ever, fear me Isabé never.”

His beard tickles my lips as I kiss his chin. “I know yours can be a hard life Raymond, your work for the King makes you an assassin, spy, soldier and all of these put you in danger. Doubtless this won’t be the only time you return home wounded, but when you left me to go to Paris, you left me burning for you.” His eyes darken a little, there is a feral look in them and I hesitate for a moment.

“That day I would have let you fuck me against that wall out there with the whole Chateau watching us and I would have felt no shame.” His hands grab at me and he digs his fingers hard into the flesh of my backside. There is no innocence in my kiss, it is savage and he gives back the same in return but winces as I rake his lip hard between my teeth.

He digs his fingers in even harder “Bitch you’ve drawn blood” he licks at the inside of his mouth. 

Sitting up quickly I slide back onto his thighs, curl my fingers lightly around him and stroke gently up and down barely touching his skin.

**_“No Théo Fontiane does not measure up in anyway at all.”_ **

“Sweet Christ Woman.” he grabs at my other hand lacing his fingers between mine.

“Raymond your leaving I can bear, any woman who weds a soldier must learn to do that but believe me if you ever, for whatever reason, lay with a whore again you had best make sure she leaves no marks on you because I swear by the Holy Mother, I shall geld you. The only woman who has the right to mark you is me.”

There is his smirk again but his eyes blow wide and dark with anticipation as I hover over him and make as if to kiss his chest. When sink my teeth hard into his left breast he yelps with surprise but simply strokes at my hair as I suck and bite the livid mark into his flesh the mark he wants me to make. I lick at the bruise, touch my lips to it, blow my breath over the almost broken skin

“You should heed your own advice in future Raymond and make sure you know your adversary.”

Swiftly I scramble from the bed and keeping well out of his reach, snatching up my shift to pull it on quickly then I worm and wriggle into my dress, and gather up my veil, hose and shoes. Raymond has made no attempt to hinder me but I can feel his eyes on me, when I glance at him my heart thuds.

“Stay.” His voice is thick, almost pleading, and his eyes gentle. “Isabé, for God’s sake.” he stretches out his hand to me and looks down. Even beneath the sheet he has pulled over himself, his arousal is still clearly visible.

“I have work to do Raymond or have you not heard there is to be a wedding on Saturday? I nod at the sheet covering him. “You could try tying a knot in that it might help.” He shoots me an evil look then his lips curve into a smile and he raises his left brow. “Saturday, cannot come soon enough for me Isabé but remember, there are many hours between now and then.” 

I understand him completely and I’m certain he has seen both longing and lust in my expression. Before I turn away from him.

It would be so easy to return to his bed but without another word or look I leave quickly, closing the door quietly behind me. Something has eased around my heart, and I race back to my own chamber before I change my mind.

 

****

*”You are my life, my love, my heart.”*


	23. Chapter 23

Whirling out into the hallway, my mind is so full of thoughts of Raymond that I don’t even see the young housemaid sidestepping me. Most of the pots on her tray wobble then right themselves, excepting the honey pot that sails over the edge and smashes to pieces on the flagstones.

“Shit, Madame Bérenger will have my hide for this, why don’t you look where you’re going you stupid cow?” Her green eyes are blazing, then she recognises me and as her jaw drops, she backs away from me. “Mam’selle, Mon Dieu, I mean no disrespect, I am so, so sorry.”

“Don’t worry, it was my fault I wasn’t paying attention.” I flash her a broad smile. 

Small, skinny and probably no more than twelve or thirteen she’s a pretty little thing not least because of her unmarked face and bright green eyes. We kneel together to pick up the potsherds.

“I take it this was breakfast for Sieur Raymond?”

“Yes, Madame Berenger sent it up for him.”

**_Dear God, milk, bread, honey and pottage, if the she’d taken that in to him it’s likely she’d have had a boot thrown at her head._ **

“What’s in the jugs?”

“In the small one wine, and hot water for washing in the other”

“Good, take off your head cover” Yanking it off she reveals a shock of thick, copper coloured, hair which falls below her shoulders. “I should have known that with those eyes you would be a redhead.” Her smile disappears and she gasp’s as she realises, I’m pouring hot water onto my veil and using it to wipe the floor, I pass her the jug. “I’ll need you to do the same.”

“What’s your name?” She seems surprised I’d bother to ask. 

“Jénnin, Mam’selle.”

“Well Jénnin, tell me about Madame Berenger, the truth mind, I don’t want to hear gossip and tittle-tattle.”

“Oh, she’ll make me pay in some way, that’s for sure.” Jénnin sits back on her heel and shudders, perhaps she has crossed Ghislane before. “That old woman tries to make everyone think she’s a sweet old lady, like she’s everyone’s grandmother; but she looks for some weakness or secret and if she finds it, then God help you she’ll worry at it like a terrier with a rat. Madame Bérenger is a cruel, vicious, old cow; she thinks she rules the Chateau and I hate her.”

Jénnin’s look tells me more than her words, to her Ghislane Bérenger is someone to be feared.

“Just tell her that it was an accident.”

“Huh, that won’t help, she’ll never listen to the likes of me Mam’selle.”

Before I can answer I feel a kick to my arse and a high pitched, nasal voice rings out.

“Get out of my way slatterns, you should have finished your work and be back in the kitchens now where decent folk can’t see you.” 

Neither of us had noticed the approach of a beanpole of a woman. As we scramble to our feet Jénnin moves aside but I stand square. Despite her exquisite clothes and a King’s ransom worth of gold and jewels, there is a whiff of something unpleasant about the woman. It’s not easily disguised even by the expensive perfume she wears. Trying to calm the wriggling, whining lapdog clutched against her breast she speaks again barely opening her mouth.

“Don’t you know to make way for your betters?” Stepping closer she frees one hand and grabs my arm to pull me aside.

“Madame, I strongly advise you to leave go of me unless would like me to set you on your backside, and please don’t speak to me or any the household staff in that way again; you are a guest here and I would ask that you behave accordingly.”  The shock on her face is almost comical to see, I doubt few people have dared to speak to her like that let alone a “Servant”

You,” She snaps at Jénnin, “Go and find Sieur Raymond, he will hear of this insolence.” turning back to me she adds “Doubtless when he hears of your behaviour, you will have the beating you deserve.”

She must be almost as tall as Raymond and I tilt my back head to look at her. “There is no need Madame, I will fetch Sieur Raymond, his chamber is on the other side of that door, and I’m sure my husband to be will be most interested to hear what you have to say.” 

Jénnin splutters, hides it with a cough and presses her lips tightly together, I toss our soiled head-cloths onto the tray. “Off you go now Jénnin and remember what I said.”

“Yes Mam”selle.” She curtseys and bustles off down the stairs.

The woman in front of me is tense, the colour has drained from her face. Peering down her long nose she rakes her gaze over me, I can feel it scraping my flesh. “You must forgive me, I’m not used to quaint country manners that allow well-bred women to go about in bare feet and with uncovered hair.” I look  beyond her shoulder, Guillaume and Mathieu have ambled towards us and I can tell they have heard everything. Stopping short they stand arms folded, heads cocked watching with growing amusement.

“It’s of no matter Madame, it seems Paris manners are no better, they certainly don’t travel well, oh and dogs will not be allowed in hall during the celebrations, so you will keep yours confined to your chamber; and you will take it outside to relieve itself, well away from the courtyard. I will not have dog shit tramped into the hall.”

“Please couldn’t you make an exception for this one little dog?” Simpering and smiling, she leans in towards me and it’s obvious why she keeps her mouth almost closed; Either she has a festering abscess or her teeth are rotting. The smell almost makes me gag and I try not to breathe in too deeply. “Madame, even Monseigneur Baron and Sieur Raymond have exiled their hounds to the kennels during the wedding celebrations, there can be no exceptions, even for this sweet thing”

“If you insist.” She snaps and with a nasty sneering smile continues, “I suppose Sieur Raymond must know his own mind, but he’ll come to regret it soon enough, that he’s marrying someone with no more manners than a peasant.” Smiling at her small triumph, the beanpole strides past me. I can’t be bothered to be angry with her.

Guillaume and Mathieu are grinning at me.

“What?

Guillaume slips an arm around my waist and pecks my cheek.

“Isabé, you’re magnificent, you look like a scullery maid and behave like a grand lady.” He laughs again. “I would love to hear what Sieur Raymond had to say if he caught sight of you.”

“I should think he’ll say very little, especially if he wants to keep his cods attached!”

“Ahh that’s my feisty sister, bold and brave taking on the Paris dragons and miserable old knights”

“Oh, shut up and let go of me, the peasant must go and change.”

“Did you check Raymond’s wound.”

“No, the binding looked clean”

“Well I’d best make sure, or Anselme will have my hide if anything goes wrong.”

“I wish you luck with that Raymond’s weary, sore, grumpy and likely to rip your head off if you pester him.”

Mathieu chuckles and winks at me, “He’s his usual self then, still he’s a strong man and I’m sure he’ll be fit for his wedding night, hein.”

Oh, don’t worry, if he should pull his stitches my flair for needlework isn’t confined to cloth, Henri saw to that, he made me practice on pieces of raw pork!”

“A good skill for the wife of a soldier to have Mam’selle.”

“I suppose so.” 

“Is there something else Isabé? 

I feel my throat tighten and my eyes begin to sting. “Raymond didn’t have an easy night, I'm just glad he doesn’t remember anything when he

wakes.”

 Guillaume hugs me tight, “Next time it won’t seem so bad and don’t worry I’ll make sure he has a quiet day.”

“Thank you…Brother.” I kiss his cheek.

Mathieu’s mouth widens into a broad smile.

“I promise we’ll try and keep him from doing anything….”

“Stupid?” I offer the word.

“I was thinking reckless, but stupid will suffice.” And I hear. him laugh as he closes the door softly behind them.

I run back to my chamber. As I enter the room, Jehanne spins round and glares at me shaking her head at my appearance.

“About time, I was ready to send a search party, though I’m damned sure I know where you’ve been; I have a fresh gown ready and there is warm water in the ewer.” Not much given to gossip I can tell she is fighting her curiosity and itching to ask about me and Raymond.

“I’ll put you out of your misery Jehanne, nothing happened.” I hope she can't tell I'm lying.

“Isabé how could you even think I would pry.” Her expression is demure but there’s a twinkle in her eye.

“How?” Because you’re practically hopping from foot to foot like an excited child”

“I am not.” Pouting, she gestures for me to turn around so that she can comb my hair. “Besides it isn’t my business.” Her disinterest lasts for three strokes of the comb.

“Tell me, how was the handsome Sieur Raymond, was he tender, gentle, passionate, wild or all of those?”

I shoot my elbow backwards and she grunts as I jab her non-too gently in her ribs.

“There’s nothing to tell.”

“Really, so how did you come by the marks on your face?” Catching hold of my shoulders she turns me to face her. Through narrowed eyes she watches and waits, I feel the flush rise up my neck.

“It was an accident”

“The truth Isabé.”

“It is the truth.” Tightness starts in my chest and moves to my throat, tears form, and I let them come. They fall fast and hot and between hard, heaving sobs I tell her most of what happened.  Jehanne pulls me tight against her gently stroking my hair as I bawl against her shoulder, dampening the cloth with tears and snot.

“Hush now Isabé, hush sweetheart.” She cups my face in her hands, her voice is gentle and full of understanding “All you can do is speak softly, be calm and afterwards make sure he rests. I have seen your mother do just that for Henri.” She kisses my forehead. “Now, dry your eyes, the redness will soon go, as for your face.” Shaking her head, she clucks at me. With cold cloths, arnica salve and a little of God’s good grace, it

might not look so bad come Saturday. You know Isabé, I think, you are beginning to fall in love with Raymond at least just a little.” Beaming, she brings thumb and index finger together until they almost touch.

“No, no I don’t.” Jehanne’s grin is making me more than a little uncomfortable. 

“If you say so, but I know he can make you burn for him Isabé, I have seen him do it, he must have been Very hard to resist.”

Looking down at the floor I study my toes and watch a spider crawl under the chair. “I admit, when he was himself, I lay in his bed, we curled together, I whispered soothing words and held him as he slept but nothing else take it or leave it. Is that plain enough for you? Breathing deeply to calm myself, I close my eyes against her searching look. She need not know the rest of it, but I can see in her face she knows there is more.

“Isabé, if you say so, then I believe you, but have care for your reputation, it wasn’t wise of you to stay with him all night unchaperoned, especially when we have the King here.”

“I should think His Majesty has more important matters to occupy him and I doubt with his reputation that he would judge me.”

“But are you judging me Jehanne?” I hold her gaze and she steps back. I know I was a fool where Théo was concerned but this is different, I marry Raymond the day after tomorrow so if I should choose to lay with him before our wedding, who am I harming?” My voice is still cool, I don’t care whether she believes me or not.

Her eyes flutter closed as she swallows hard then answers me in a soft voice. “I’m not judging you Isabé, how can you think I would.” She takes hold of my hand “But I still say you’re not quite truthful to yourself, I think you love Raymond at least a little, even after such a short time, you know it here.” She taps two fingers to my forehead then places them near my heart and taps between my breasts. “And you feel it here.”

“No, I made that mistake once before, I shan’t do it again.”

“Be careful you don’t push him away, he’s been hurt before too.”

Jehanne lapses into silence as she finishes combing my hair, and suddenly a dreadful, mean thought worms into my head.

“Raymond knew all about Théo, Jehanne.”

“What?” She lets the ivory comb slips from her hand and clatters on the floor.

“The day he left for Paris I admitted to him that Théo had been my lover, I thought I owed him that much at least.”

“Well, you know people were already beginning to wonder about the two of you, it wouldn’t have been so difficult for him to discover, he is a spy for God’s sake.” I admire her calmness

“Perhaps that’s true, but then how did he know about the child Jehanne, only you and I knew about that.”

Taken by surprise she pales; her mouth hangs slack, her eyes are wide. “My God, you truly believe I told him?” Her words crack out and she

trembles with fury. “Damn you Isabé for thinking I would betray you.” She yells at me now. “How dare you, I should slap you until your ears ring and your teeth rattle.”

“Someone told him, someone close to me”

“Fuck you Isabé, damn you to hell for thinking so ill of me” As she yells at me again, she raises her hand high, palm open. A tight, cold little smile sets on my lips “Don’t you dare raise your voice and hand to me; If you slap me Jehanne, I’ll set you on your arse and you know I can do it.” We stand toe to toe; her eyes flash fire as she holds my look.

“I give you fair warning, if ever I discover it was you who betrayed me, you will be dead to me”

She drops a curtsey, “If you have no more need of me, I bid you good morning, Mam’selle.” then with absolute calm and grace, she leaves the chamber.

The sheet and coverlet are shoved into in a rumpled heap behind Raymond. Eyes closed, smiling, he sits on the edge of the bed and thinks of Isabé. Seeing again her heavy-lidded eyes and full lips; the triangle of dark curls and the pale blonde hair that slithered and slipped over him as she bruised him with teeth and tongue. Tracing his long fingers over the purple brand on his flesh he knows that he will always belong to her.

Laughing and joking Guillaume and Mathieu enter Raymond’s chamber.

“And what in hell do the pair of you find so fucking amusing this morning?”

“Your Lady Wife to be has just sent one of the noblewomen packing with a very large flea in her ear.”

“Oh, sweet Christ, I swear if we get through this damned wedding without a riot a mishap or a murder, I’ll eat my boots.”

“It was only…Mathieu begins.

“Stop. I don’t want to know.” Raymond sighs and scrubs his hands up and down his face.

“Probably wise.” Guillaume mumbles under his breath and louder adds.“Sieur I must check your wound, Anselme made me swear to do it and if anything should go wrong, he’ll likely flay me alive, provided my Sister doesn’t get to me first.

“Guillaume leave it be, I promise you the dressing is clean, though I’ll admit if it did turn foul, I’d rather face Anselme than Isabé.” Raymond winks at his Squire.

Guillaume grins, “Oh, I agree, which is why I insist on checking on it before you attend evening meal,”

“Now find me something decent to wear and for fuck’s sake don’t trick me out like a Palace Peacock.”

“Sieur, we both know you don’t possess a single garment which would transform you into that particular bird.” Is Guillaume’s dry response,

Mathieu bites at the inside of his mouth and Raymond roars with laughter at the accurate assessment of his meagre and not quite fashionable wardrobe.

“And you Mathieu, what have you come to bother me with?”

“Just to receive my orders for the day Sieur”

“Well I’m certain my most capable Captain already has everything in order, so perhaps you could make sure that Isabé doesn’t manage to insult one half of the guests and batter the other before the wedding.” He raises one eyebrow.

“Of course.” Mathieu tries not to laugh.

“Yes Sieur, with luck and the wind in the right direction, we should just about manage it; but you know how my sister is, I’d sooner try to herd cats.”

The long tunic Guillaume chooses is of fine, tawny coloured wool trimmed on all edges with gold, green and red embroidery. Over it he wears a shorter murrey coloured surcote, with the de Merville arms stitched in gold thread. A long, leather belt, decorated with gold ornaments, and soft brown leather short boots complete his wardrobe. He might not be considered fashionable, but he is as elegant and handsome as Guillaume has ever seen him, and the squires heart aches for what can never be.

“Do you require anything more Sieur; there would have been food for you but there was a mishap I will attend to it.”

“Don’t bother with food, I’m not hungry Guillaume, Mathieu, you and I will speak later about some easy training.” Mathieu frowns.

 “So soon, is that wise?”

“Your concern about my health is appreciated Capt.” Raymond gives him a wry smile.

“Forgive me Sieur, but my concern is more with my own health, Mam’selle  ordered me not to let you train or exercise.”

“Ordered you? Christ preserve us she has some nerve, now out both of you leave me in peace. Oh, and not a hint to Isabé about what we discussed before we went to Paris.”

Neither of them misses his gentle smile, and before they are even out of the door, he’s heading to the side chamber. From the chest at the end of the room he pulls out a coffret, it’s nothing special to look at, very plain and more than a little battered; but if the box could talk it would speak of joy and kindness, sadness and pain. He lifts the lid and caresses the red silk cloth. On Saturday, for the first time since he returned from Constantinople, he will unwrap the contents offer them to Isabé as a wedding present. By gifting the contents to the woman he loves, he will honour a promise he made five years ago. Sighing he closes his eyes and remembers an olive skinned, dark eyed woman.

“Papa, Papa,”

“Damn.” Raymond digs the quill nib on the document he is signing and ink spatters across it. As he stands up Nicolette races into the chamber and hurtles towards him. Grunting slightly from the pain, he gathers her up in his arms and she squeals with delight as he swings her around and around before settling her on his left hip. Wraps her arms around his neck she snuffles her nose into his beard as he presses a kiss to the top of her head.

“You smell nice Papa, and your beard isn’t so scratchy now, I like it better.” Her expression is so serious that Raymond can’t help but laugh.”

“And good morning to you my little tearaway, you look as if you’ve been rolling in the kitchen ashes.”

“Forgive our unruly daughter Raymond, she forgets her manners and looks and behaves no better than an urchin.” With smudges on her face and dress, scuffed shoes and her long dark hair awry, the child certainly doesn’t look as if she is the daughter of a nobleman.

“I wanted to come and see you, but Mama was going to make me wash and change and I couldn’t wait.” From her vantage point she scowls and pouts, bright blue eyes so like Raymond’s flash something like defiance at Eleanor.

“Nicolette,” Eleanor’s voice is sharp “That is not the way to behave.”

“I’ve been riding, that’s what I came to tell you, I’ve been riding very fast, and jumping and..”

“And falling off?” He frowns and looks across at Eleanor, who just smiles, shrugs and nods her head.

Nicolette just giggles at him. “Yes, look,” Freeing one hand she hitches up her skirts and proudly shows off her battle scars of torn hose and a pair of bruised and bloodied knees. “But I didn’t cry, Davide made sure I was all right and I got straight back into the saddle I did it again and went faster and higher and this time I didn’t fall off”

“For pity’s sake child, draw breath.” He gently presses his fingers to her lips and kisses her forehead. She Kisses his nose in return.

“You aren’t cross with me, are you Papa?”

“Of course not.” He is so proud of her, his features soften as he sets her down, but she looks straight up at him a worried look in her eyes.

“Mama said you had been hurt, did you cry?”

“No,” he bends down and whispers, “But keep it a secret, I swore a great deal.” 

Nicolette puts her mouth close to his ear and whispers solemnly “Oh Papa, so did I, I said Damn it to Hell.”

Raymond sucks in his cheeks and bites down to stifles a laugh.

“Well that’s not so bad but what did Mama say when she heard.?”

“She didn’t hear.”

He seriously doubts that, looks across at Eleanor, winks and realises that she has something on her mind. 

“Nicolette, go and fetch the box and board, you can play with it while I talk to Mama.” Apart from her pony it is her favourite thing and she skips away to fetch it. Eleanor grimaces slightly as her daughter tips thirty-two exquisitely carved and coloured ivory pieces onto the bed, but Raymond doesn’t seem to mind as the she clambers up and starts bashing them together, issuing orders to her own little army. To anyone but Raymond, Eleanor’s expression would have given nothing away, but he notices the slight tightness around her eyes, a tension in her shoulders, all signs that he isn’t going to like what she has to say. As she as she tells him about Théo and Ghislane, she watches him closely and is near enough to see tiny flecks of green fire in his blue eyes the twitch of muscle at the edge of his jaw, a sure sign he is raging. Raymond braces the palms of his hands against the table and all he can hear is the thudding of his heart. 

“I know they are working against the King, but do you really believe they are a threat to Isabé?”

“Oh Raymond, think, what, better way of getting to you and drawing you into their fight.”

“The bastard, I should take a knife to his throat now, as for that treacherous old bitch.”

Eleanor lays a hand on his arm. “Perhaps, but you won’t Raymond, we need to know their plans, their contacts and so like the rest of us you will wait and watch. The King has appointed me Isabé’s protector.” 

“What, why you and not me?” Raymond slams his hand down and snaps at her. 

“If you must ask, then you’re a bigger fool than I imagined; you’re too close to her Raymond it may cloud your judgment.”

Taking hold of her hand he brings it to his lips. “Do what you must then and thank you.”

“I’ll do my best, Nicolette, put those aside, we must go.”

“Oh, Mama do I have too?”

Raymond smiles indulgently at his daughter “Leave her with me, I’ve missed the little baggage and every time I come home, she’s changed so much.”

“As you wish.” She nods at Raymond, he could have been a very different father, cold and disinterested; the fact that he isn’t is something she will always be grateful for.

“Holy Mother of God, who’s rubbed you the wrong way, you’ve got a face like a hound chewing a wasp?”

Ghislane grins as Jehanne plonks herself down beside her on the bench

“It’s of no matter and besides we have something to settle.” She holds up her hand showing the fine ring with the blue stone. “Eleanor may well have helped with the preparations for the wedding so that half of the wager is complete; but I am certain Raymond hasn’t bedded Isabé. As far as I’m concerned the wager void Ghislane.”

“Oh, and how can you be certain, I know for a fact she spent the night in his room, so do you honestly expect me to believe that they weren’t riding each other into a muck sweat all night?”

“Isabé says Raymond was in no fit state, besides he had an attack of terrors” Jehanne suddenly narrows her eyes at the older woman. “Besides, how do you know Isabé stayed there?”

Ghislane snorts. “Well, you have just admitted she did, but I’m the Chatelaine my dear, not much escapes me, I make it my business to keep a check on all the comings and goings and it pays in every way to know who is doing what and with whom.”

“You mean you blackmail them?”

“Oh, that’s such a nasty word Jehanne, no, people are usually very forthcoming without any encouragement from me. If they chose to buy my silence of their own accord, then why should I stop them?” She leans down and whispers, “I have it on good authority Isabé left his chamber this morning and she had a smile on her face as broad as my arse, now tell me again he hasn’t fucked her.”

Jehanne holds firm.

“Well perhaps he hasn’t yet girl, but the wager stands there's time yet for him to get between her legs.”

 “It won’t happen.” Jehanne is adamant.

“Think that if you will my dear, but if it does, believe me I will know. Now I have things to attend to, these Paris Nobles are a pain in the arse with all the extra work they’re causing. I’m looking forwards to claiming my winnings from you and I do hope you won’t be a bad loser. Her voice is soft, but Jehanne doesn’t miss the warning in Ghislaine’s parting words and shivers at the subtle threat.

“Dear God, was she the one who told Raymond?”

“Enter.”

The door creaks slightly and Eleanor pokes her head around.

“Isabé, I should like to speak with you if it’s convenient.”

“Of course, please come in.” I gesture to the most comfortable chair and pour wine for us both.

Sipping at her wine it’s some moments before she speaks her silence is making me nervous.

“You know, you really are quite a remarkable, level headed young woman.”

My wine goes the wrong way down my throat leaving me coughing and spluttering.

“I think others may use very different words Eleanor.”

“Perhaps, but I am not others and I choose my words deliberately." 

“I’ll be honest with you Eleanor; I’d rather you weren’t part of Raymond’s life, but you are and there’s an end to it. The day I found you in Raymond's chamber, I was determined to dislike you, even to hate you, but sometimes things never work out quite as we imagine, do they?”

With a wry smile on her face she raises her wine cup in a toast. "You have reconciled yourself to me and Nicolette and there Isabé Pelletier, is the steel which runs through you, when you stepped on to the field, you drew your battle lines straight away. I admire you for that, it must have taken a deal of courage.”

"Well I didn’t think Raymond would care to keep playing Solomon as we try to claw lumps out of each other. It’s easier if we know where we stand and at least try to be civil,” I sip at my wine.”

“I agree, now,  there is no point my keeping this from you any longer.” 

When she has finished her tale, I take several slow deep breaths and a mouthful of wine to steady myself. I always knew Théo could be devious, but this?

“Does Raymond know?

“He does, and now there are things that we must discuss.” She pours more wine and fixes me with a cool look.

All work finished, Raymond sits on the edge of his bed and watches fondly as Nicolette arranges the chess pieces to her own liking.

“One day I shall teach you how to play the game properly.” Raymond ruffles Nicolette’s hair then without warning he scoops her up from the bed, ignoring the pain as the stitches pull taut “So what do think Ma Petite, shall we go down to the kitchens, beg DuFour for some special treat for you, then off to the stables, saddle up your pony again and you can show me how clever you are.”

“Please Papa, Chef always has honey wafers and I want you to watch me ride, Mama say’s I’m very good.” She plants a sloppy kiss on his cheek.

“Well if Mama say’s so then it must be true.” He laughs and once out of the chamber hoists her onto his shoulders, clamps her legs tightly against his chest and sets off down the stairs.

As they enter the hot, raucous kitchen, he sets Nicolette down and she trots off towards DuFour, as soon as he catches sight of his little visitor, he gives her a wide smile; in a flash she is sitting on a table, swinging her legs and stuffing herself with sweet wafers and milk. Pouring two cups of wine and hands one to Raymond and slides another plate of honey wafers onto the table.

“Sieur, if you would care to try these, I would value your opinion.”

Raymond laughs, “DuFour, you’re asking the wrong man my friend, you should ask my daughter.” Nicolette’s face is smeared with honey and crumbs and there are stains on her gown where she’s wiped her sticky fingers. “There’s your judge man, I’m no authority on food other than knowing what will keep an army on its feet and fit to fight, my expertise ends there.”

   
DuFour knows damned well that isn’t true, the man has a fine palate, but he doesn’t argue, just watches as Raymond pops a wafer into his mouth, then grins as he hears the little sound of pleasure he makes at the first taste. The wafer melts on Raymonds tongue, the taste of honey, butter and spice fills his mouth bringing back childhood memories. For a moment he closes his eyes, when he opens them, DuFour he raises his brows.

“For the wedding feast Sieur.”

“Isabé will love them and his Majesty will doubtless try to spirit you back to Paris on the strength of them.”

“Ah Sieur on that point.”

“You mean he’s already tried to steal you away.”

“Indeed, but courteously of course, I told him to go F…” Raymond raises one eyebrow and nods towards Nicolette, DuFour coughs. “I thanked him, said I was honoured and then said no.”

“Thank God for that, now seeing that this little mischief would eat them until she burst I think we had best make our way to the stables.” 

“Yes Papa.” She mumbles through a mouthful of wafer. Raymond shakes his head, Eleanor won’t be best pleased when she sees the state of her. 

They are barely half way across the ward when Fournier strides up to them, he seems tired and anxious.

“Sieur Raymond, if you could spare me a few moments I should be grateful.”

“Of course, In fact I was hoping to discuss the special arrangements I mentioned.” He turns back towards the kitchen.

“Sieur, please, I think my chamber would be best.”

Sébastien Fournier is agitated, rarely has he felt this nervous in his life and it shows. Seated in a comfortable chair, with Nicolette on his lap, Raymond sits quietly settles his daughter against his chest and waits. He sees how Fournier’s hand trembles as he pours wine, notices his reluctance to speak. Finally, the Seneschal, calms himself.

“Sieur Raymond, what I have to say to you, may cause you to change your mind about marrying Isabé Pelletier.

Raymond’s voice is low and calm.  “I doubt there’s anything that could make me do that, and please, leave the formality aside Sébastien.”

“As you wish, but this is difficult for me Raymond, there is something you must know, my conscience demands it, as for the rest of the household I will leave that up to you……and Isabé to decide. He fixes Raymond with cool stare “Isabé is my Daughter.”

The silence can be sliced with a knife as the men face each other across the table. Half asleep, Nicolette whimpers “Papa you’re hurting me” and Raymond suddenly realises he is squeezing her sticky fingers in an iron grip.


	24. Chapter 24

Raymond is aware of two things, the sound of his heart pounding against his ribs and the warmth of Nicolette snuggled against his chest. Jaws set and eyes narrowed, Raymond and Fournier study each other across the table, the air seems to grow thin and brittle. Surprisingly, it’s Raymond who looks away first. He presses a soft kiss to his daughter’s temple and another to the top of her head; she is oblivious to the tension in the room and makes herself more comfortable against him as she hums a tune to herself. Pressing his lips together Raymond rolls his eyes heavenwards hoping to God it is only the tune she knows; he can well imagine the scandalised looks if she decided to come out with the words. Clearly, his daughter is spending far too much time around housemaids, pot boys’ and stable lads, all of whom seem to have forgotten that little heads have big ears.

  
When he sees Raymond look up, the Seneschal is surprised to notice that there is a smile on his face, not broad but it’s kind, and it reaches his eyes. Fournier sighs and drops down into his chair, he takes a long swallow of wine and lets down his courtier’s guard; he doesn’t care that his relief is so visible and his emotions are on show.

  
“You know Sébastien, we can’t choose our relatives but I have to say there are few men I would wish to have as a prospective Father-in Law, though you number amongst them.”

 

“And Henri Bouvier?”

  
“Well, know he is not Isabé’s father but yes I would have to include him because no matter what others may say of him, he is a good friend and I know him far better than most.”

  
Fournier closes his eyes for a moment and Raymond sees the man’s shoulders relax and the tension slip from his face. “You really mean what you say?”

  
“Of course I do, for Christ’s sake man who am I to judge you?” He glances down at Nicolette a soft look on his face.  
“Yes, but Nicolette has always known who her father is, whereas Isabé has not. I give Henri great credit; never once did he prevent me from visiting the Manor but Isabé barely noticed me. As far as she was concerned, I was just there to see Henri. Though he certainly had the means to provide for her, he realised how important it was and is, for me to contribute in any way possible and to visit as often as I wished. He always sought my opinion, how much of it was of his own volition and how much was prompted by Blanche I don’t know but I am grateful, and he respected my decision to keep to the background and to tell her in my own time.”

  
Raymond looks squarely at Fournier. “Knowing Henri as I do, I’m certain he needed no prompting from Blanche, they may call him Bouvier the Butcher and there is no question he is a hard man but he knows when to do right and he has done right by Isabé; as for you Sébastien, you have nothing to reproach yourself for my friend.”

  
Fournier chuckles. “Ah, but we didn’t quite manage raise a “Lady” in the conventional sense. Isabé is far too opinionated and outspoken for that; do you know that between them, Henri, Blanche and Guillaume have taught Isabé to read, write, figure numbers, she has a rudimentary knowledge of how to use sword and knife, and of course she can ride, I don’t mean simply to trot along, I mean ride like a soldier. Wearing Guillaume’s old clothes with her hair stuffed under a coif she would go haring around with him.” He grins at Raymond. “You know if you hadn’t offered for her Raymond, she would likely have ended an old maid, I doubt there’s another man of my acquaintance who would have had the balls to taker her on.”

  
Elbows propped on the arms of his chair, Fournier steeples his fingers together and purses his lips. “Oh, Henri has no truck with keeping women hobbled and in ignorance, thankfully Blanche agrees with him and though Isabé may not conform to every man’s ideal, in my heart I know she will make you a good wife.”

  
Raymond’s eyes grow wide, they sparkle with amusement. “Well I thought I knew everything about your daughter. Though it seems I still have a great deal to discover but you know me well enough to know I enjoy a challenge my friend.” Fournier beams at Raymond’s acknowledgement of him as a deep laugh rumbles out from Raymond, his chest vibrates, and Nicolette shifts in his arms frowning at the disturbance.

  
“Oh, the moment she told me that I wasn’t getting a simpering, whey faced bitch, I was sure of she would do for me.”

  
“You do love her Raymond?”

 

If Raymond is surprised by point blank question, he doesn’t show it and his response is swift and absolute.

  
“Yes, Sébastien, I do.” Even as he answers he sees an anxious look settling on the Seneschals face. “Something is bothering you my friend?”

 

“Raymond, should you and Isabé decide to keep this to yourselves I shall understand but if you decide that others should know then I am prepared for the gossip and speculation.” He sighs and grips at the arms of his chair. “There will doubtless be questions about my timing and my motives.” Sebastien bows his head and swallows hard. “All I can answer is why not now, there is never a good time and Isabé is a grown woman, she can accept or deny me as she chooses, as for the latter what do I need, I am content with my situation in life, whatever the outcome.”

  
Raymond scans the handsome face opposite and considers Fournier’s words, he recognises the truth when he hears it.  
“My friend, I think you should send for Isabé, tell her now before the wedding it will at least give her a little time adjust, that’s all you can do.”

Raymond catches a strange expression on Fournier’s face, a hint of panic perhaps, certainly the silent plea of an anxious man and he comes to his rescue.  
“If you will allow, I will stay, perhaps Isabé will feel more comfortable if she knows I am pleased to have you as my Father in Law.”

  
Fournier nods, scrapes his chair back and crosses to the door. When he opens it, the page outside snaps to attention as he is instructed to go and fetch Mam’selle Pelletier and the Seneschal silently thanks Raymond for his support.

 

 

As she begins to close the door behind her Eleanor pauses, then turns to me. My eyes are drawn to her hand, long, slender, elegant; I shudder slightly knowing that those fingers, so pale and delicate against the dark wood of the door are a weapon. She can and has killed with them and if necessary, will do so again.

  
“Isabé believe me, I know just how difficult it will be for you to keep up the pretence that you know nothing of what Théo and Ghislane really are. But you can’t allow yourself to give anything away, not the slightest hint.”

  
I am trying to appear calm, but my words are snappy and peevish. “Huh, that’s like telling me not to let my mouth water when I think of verjuice or vinegar.” 

  
Eleanor smiles a cool, tight little smile. “Make light of it by all means but be absolutely certain that one course of action will keep you alive, the other might get you killed; so I beg you to think on what I’ve said. Now I must go and help Jehanne with the last of the hangings, when you are ready send word and I will meet you at the entrance to the exercise yard.”  
Her voice is harsh, and her words makes my blood chill. With eyes closed I nod, when I open them, she’s gone. Eleanor has left without making a sound and I’m sure it was by design, just to leave me in no doubt how easily some people can come and go. My hands tremble and I reach for the wine, but I stop short; courage and answers aren’t generally found at the bottom of a wine cup, so I pour water instead.  

  
The heat is almost unbearable, but convention does not allow for my going bare legged, so I pull on my hose and garter them; a final fiddle with my veil, a smoothing down of the pale green gown and I’m ready. I look back into the room, I shall spend only two more nights in this chamber, after that I shall be in my husband’s bed, in the arms of a man more than twice my age and who, if I’m honest I barely know. For a moment I can’t decide whether I’m excited or afraid, then I think back to this morning and smile and a heat travels through me.

  
When I step down into the hall Ghislane is nowhere to be seen thank God, and neither is Jehanne, I’m relieved, I can’t face her after I had the gall to accuse her of betraying me to Raymond. Master Laurent is on the far side of the room, deep in conversation with a group of his men; he is overseeing the dismantling of the scaffolding from either side of the hall, as he turns to instruct them to leave leave the platform behind the High Table, he catches sight of me raising his right hand in greeting.

  
“Damn I shall have to go cap in hand to the Baron, Raymond or Fournier for coin to pay the man.” I am not yet Chatelaine and so have no funds.

  
The Chateau is waking, cooking smells waft from behind the screens passage, housemaids, squires and pages scuttle about with items of clothing, trays of food, ewers, piss pots covered with linen cloths. They dodge and sidestep as they cross and recross the hall, I hear a rumbling sound behind me and turn to see two burly pages roll a large wooden bathing tub towards the stairs then with much groaning and cursing they proceed to manhandle it to the corridor above.  Making my way towards the high table I look around and can’t help but take great pride in what we have achieved. The Chateau is looking as it should, like the dwelling of a nobleman, not the shabby, grubby barracks it once was. The banners and hangings are magnificent their colours glowing in the dim light, the embroidered figures seem to have a life of their own and the result is far better than I had imagined or hoped it would be. Eleanor and Jehanne have proven beyond doubt what formidable needlewomen they are, and they have clearly chosen their assistants well.

  
“Isabé,” I turn at the sound of the low growl behind me. For a well-built man with a walking cane the Baron moves remarkably quietly.

  
“Monseigneur Baron, good morning.” I smile and drop a curtsey.

  
“Good morning Isabé.” He raises his cane and points at the banners behind the high table. “Well this is quite impressive, you have done well girl.” I bridle a little when he calls me “girl”, but I try not to show it. As he steps round to stand in front of me, his lips are pursed and there is a slight frown creasing his forehead. “You know you may not have been my choice as a wife for my son but the more I see and know of you, the more I am convinced that Raymond made the right decision. He knows his own mind best and you my dear will make a formidable Chatelaine.” 

  
“Well I thank you for your honesty Monseigneur, I think.”

  
He manages a wry smile then takes a step closer, with his free left hand he catches my chin between his finger and thumb “Are you well?” he tilts my face this way and that a little. “You look pale girl.”

  
I give him my best smile, but I know it doesn’t reach my eyes. “I’m just a little tired.”

  
“Understandable, you have worked so hard and your efforts have been noticed not just by me; His Majesty speaks very highly of you and by the way, he seems to have reconciled himself to your marriage to my son.”

  
“Well then I suppose I should be grateful for that.” I grin up at him, “But Kings may change their minds more often than I change my hose; and until I am in the Cathedral and prostrate beneath the canopy to receive the blessing, I shan’t hold my breath. Answer me honestly Monseigneur, do think it likely that Philip could or would force Raymond to set me aside.”

  
Gaultier lowers his voice to a growl “He could, and if he forbade the match, Raymond would accept the decision without question. Always remember, that first and foremost my son is a soldier and the King’s confidant, his loyalty is to his sovereign no matter what.”

  
“As if I am likely to forget after the last few days of intrigue and Raymond injured into the bargain.” I spit my words out at him and he flashes me a hard look, fixing me with his own brilliant blue eyes.

  
“You are not an idiot, so please try not to behave like one. Growing up in the household of Henri Bouvier you know well enough about obedience and allegiance.” As he proffers his arm the frown lines smooth and fade from his forehead and there is a hint of a smile on his lips “Now, will you walk with me, will you allow a testy old man to accompany you?”

  
“Certainly Monseigneur.” Beaming a smile at him, I start to link my arm through his, but he takes my hand gently in his great paw, sets it to rest on top of his, then hands high he escorts me around the hall as if I am a great lady. This is his way of honouring me, he is making it plain to everyone that I have his blessing and his protection.”  Sideways glances and hushed whispers follow us as we walk.  
“You are a formidable woman Isabé and will be an equally impressive Chatelaine.” I smile as the Baron continues, “But you have a sharp tongue and a fiery temper it makes you rash and at times a little careless; I urge you to be mindful Isabé, draw in your horns a little, don’t provoke the wrong people.” Though his voice is calm, I sense he is warning me against Theo and Ghislane and before I can answer I am taken by surprise as he bends forward and brushes his lips against the back of my hand. My Status is sealed and there can be no question now about my place in the de Merville household. Before I can respond a young page trots up and bows to Gaultier.

 

“What is it boy?”

  
“Monseigneur I have a message for Mam’selle Pelletier” He turns to me. `Mam’selle, The Seneschal has an urgent matter he wishes to discuss with you and he respectfully asks that you join him in his chamber.”

  
“Would you excuse me Monseigneur it’s probably nothing at all but… ”  I shrug my shoulders.

  
“Don’t be so sure Isabé, Fournier has never been a man given to exaggeration, if he says it is urgent then I should believe him, so go and see what he wants and set your mind at rest.”

  
Another curtsey, another touch of his lips to the back of my hand. Oh yes, the significance of that is not lost on those who are watching us closely. Remembering Eleanor’s words, I don’t run but walk briskly with the page a step behind me. At the top of the spiral stairs he steps forward, opens the door and announces me.

  
“Oh, Raymond I did not expect to see you here, forgive me, if you have business with Fournier I can return later.”

  
“This matter concerns us all Isabé.”

  
He isn’t smiling, his face is a solemn mask, the tone of his voice worries me, it’s a cool and a little clipped and it roots me to the spot; it would seem the Baron was right, the matter is urgent. I glance from Raymond, to Fournier and back again.  
*“Mon Dieu, vous avez l’air de manger des pommes aigres.”  Their expressions don’t change.

 

Raymond unfolds himself from the chair and sets Nicolette in his place, she huffs and scowls at him for abandoning her; one raised eyebrow and his own exaggerated scowl is enough to quell any of her nonsense, and she giggles at him. He stands besides me and just as his father had, takes my hand and raises it to his lips. He is almost a head and neck taller than me, to look him in the eyes I must tilt my head. Raymond is troubled I can see it in those blue eyes, he squeezes my hand gently.

  
“So, what is this urgent problem which can’t be resolved by two grown men huh?” I try to laugh but it doesn’t work, something is awry here. “Hell, the pair of you look so damned anxious, it has to be more than a few missing flagons of wine, the butter turning rancid in the heat or His Majesty complaining about a lumpy mattress.” Still nothing. “I have it, Chef Dufour has run off with a kitchen maid and the kitchens are in an uproar?”  The tension grows and I shiver, Fournier speaks but only to offer me wine, but as he pours it, I notice that his hand trembles.

  
“Will this be a one wine cup, or a two wine cup problem.” I take a sip and smile nervously at the Seneschal.

  
Raymond cuts me off with a growl. “Isabé for God’s sake shut up and let Fournier speak.”

  
“Mam’selle,” Fournier’s voice is hoarse, the colour seeps from his face. “Telling this is no easier the second time than the first, so I shall say it straight out.” He draws in a deep breath, blinks and swallows hard. “I am your Father Isabé .” His eyes are locked to mine. Until this moment I had never believed silence could be deafening. Then suddenly I’m aware of Nicolette, the song she has started to hum is so inappropriate it makes me giggle like a madwoman, Raymond snaps at her to be quiet, he is too harsh, and she begins to sob, the room swims and Fournier’s face melts before my eyes; I feel hot, cold and hot again and the wine cup slips to the floor with a clatter.

  
_“I will not faint, I will not faint.”_ The words run through my head, but my legs ignore me and buckle, the pain is not imagined as I pitch forward feeling as if I’ve been punched.

  
Raymond grabs hold of me. “I have you Chérie, the shock will soon pass; just breathe slowly mon coeur.” His words are softly spoken, on a breath that’s warm against my face as he rests his forehead against mine. For a few moments I’m content to be held in his embrace, then something worms into my mind, I wrench myself away and step backwards. “Answer me one question Raymond, how long have you known “ _That Man_ ” to be my Father, how long? Hissing out the question I jab my finger towards the Fournier. His expression doesn’t change after eighteen years in the Baron’s service he is well schooled and knows how to remain calm in a difficult situation.

  
“Damn you Raymond, answer me.” I hear my voice growing louder and more shrill. “And you”, I glare at the man who has admitted himself to be my Father “What do you hope to gain from this huh, money, land, rank what? Do you think the Baron will pay you to keep quiet about this, well he won’t have to, I don’t give a Fuck who knows, you see it won’t matter because there’ll be no wedding.” Still no response except perhaps for the slightest flicker of something in Fournier’s eyes, sorrow, despair perhaps. “You haven’t answered me Seneschal, what is it you want?”

  
He straightens, when he speaks his voice is calm a little clipped and he looks straight into my eyes. “I will tell you what I told Raymond, for myself I neither need, nor want anything Mam’selle” Fournier is so correct, so polite and cool; an expert in diplomacy he could make the worst insult seem like the sincerest compliment.

  
“All I wish is for you to finally know who your Father is, to complete the circle. The choice is yours whether you accept or reject me, I can do nothing about that and nor will I seek to influence you.”  
“Why now, why not five or even ten years ago?” I’m yelling again and like a crabby child I stamp my foot at him.  
Fournier looks weary and shakes his head slowly. “As I explained to Sieur Raymond, I doubt there is ever a right time, but you are a grown woman and I had hoped better able to understand; perhaps I was wrong in that assumption.”

  
“You arrogant bastard, how dare you?”

  
Pain shoots up my arms and I gasp as Raymond grasps my wrists in an iron hold.

  
“Hush Darling.” His smile is bright, but he isn’t speaking to me, Nicolette has stopped humming and is whimpering at the commotion. “Isabé is upset but I’m sure she will feel better soon.” When he confronts me, his voice is any thing but gentle, hauling me forward he clamps my hands tight against his chest and with his face less than a fingers breadth from mine, growls his words out. “To answer your question, I have known for a few moments more than it took for the page to find you and escort you here, so don’t dare even think to accuse me of keeping this from you.” I start to speak.

  
“Christ and all his saints Isabé for once just damned well hold your tongue, like it or not, “that man” as you call him is the highest ranking household officer in the Chateau; my Father and I count him as a friend, he has status, rank, authority and whether you like it or not, he is your Father.” Raymond is still glaring at me. “Surely that at least should afford him some courtesy and respect from you.” I scowl up at him “Are you listening to me, Isabé?” Releasing my wrists, he grips my shoulders narrowing his eyes as he digs his fingers into the flesh, his anger is unmistakeable. “I for one will be honoured to have Sébastien Léon Fournier as my Father-in -Law”, his voice softens a little “And to take his beautiful daughter as my wife.”

 

Yanking away from him, I shake myself like a wet hen trying to dry her feathers. “There will be no wedding Raymond, do you really believe your Father and His Majesty won’t conspire to withdraw their consent when they learn of this, if you think they will let this pass then you’re a damned fool. I’ll go back to the Manor today and tomorrow I shall send for my few belongings, I want nothing from you. Be happy with Eleanor and Nicolette.” I snarl at Fournier, “You can tell who you like I don’t care, it will make no difference now.”  Before either of them can say a word, I make a dash for the door and race down the steps into the Courtyard.

Wide eyed the young page watches me as he twists a silver coin between his fingers and smiles, he’s earned half his wages he has something to report now and the promise of another silver coin.

  
Sighing, Fournier drops into his chair and slumps down scrubbing his hands over his face, then pushing them back through his thick grey curls. “Raymond forgive me my friend, I am truly sorry that went as badly as it could have.”

  
“Oh, don’t give up hope Sebastien, it’s a long time between now and Saturday.” Raymond steps up to the desk and pours two cups of wine his cheerfulness is a little forced, but he has no wish to make the man feel any worse. “A toast Fournier, to your beautiful, strong willed, extraordinary daughter, who will doubtless lead this old soldier a merry dance for years to come.”

  
The Seneschal manages a smile and raises his cup and whispers “To Isabé.”

  
Raymond glances down, conscious of something pulling at his surcoat, Nicolette has twisted her little fingers into the cloth and is tugging at it to gain his attention. In a flash his expression changes, a wide smile lights his face, tension slides away and the furrows and frown lines disappear, to be replaced by crinkles around his eyes and a dimple in his left cheek. Even the scar seems less visible.

  
“Papa, is Isabé not going to marry you? Her eyes are wide as she asks.

  
“Oh, I’m sure there will be a wedding my sweet.” He lifts her up and as she wraps her arms around his neck, she kisses his cheek. “Good, because I like Isabé, and besides if she doesn’t marry you, I shan’t get to wear the pretty new gown that Mama has made for me.” It amazes him that she so readily accepts she has a Mama, yet he is about to marry Isabé, and that not being able to wear her new gown is the most important thing by far. He chuckles, “Oh Mon Ange, that would surely be the most terrible disaster.” His tone is serious, and Nicolette nods her head sagely as Raymond stifles a laugh. “The wisdom and insight of children huh, Fournier; Well, I should take this little baggage back to Eleanor, then try and talk some sense into Isabé.”

  
“If there is anything at all I can do Raymond.”

  
“There is my friend, you can continue the preparations for the wedding.”

  
I run down the steps to the courtyard and without slowing turn right make to my way to the stables. My only thought is to leave here as quickly as possible, I shall send for my belongings tomorrow. I’m damned if I’m going to be humiliated by the Baron and dismissed in front of the whole Chateau as being an unsuitable wife for Sieur Raymond, I will not wait to be banished. Striding along I answer a good morning here and there, but really everyone is far too busy to pay me much attention. As I make my way past the common hacks towards the best-bred Mares and geldings, I pause at Athène’s stall and stroke her pretty head. “One last time eh?” But as I reach for her bridle, the devil sits on my shoulder and spurs me on to one final wilful act of defiance, I want speed and power, so I whisper a “good bye” to her.

 

As usual the stallions are boxed well away from here, stabled behind the huge wooden doors in front of me. Though locked and barred from the other side, the wicket is open allowing the stable lads and grooms to pass from one side to the other. I step through quietly, it is different here the horses are all huge to me, it is merely a question of degree. The air almost quivers with the very maleness of these beasts, they are mettlesome and as they are unused to me, they pace and stamp in their boxes.  
I give a soft word to Volucer, Raymond’s Rouncer but it is the Courser I mean to ride, Diable.

  
“There, you are you great lump.” His ears flick up then he lays them back and side eyes me flaring his nostrils. Slowly and very gently I place my hand against the large soft muzzle then scratch above his upper lip. With a snicker he tosses his head, then drops it until we are eye to eye, and I lay my cheek against his. “Will you be good Diable, or will you hold true to your name hein?”

  
Two stable lads are occupied with a horse in the farthest stall to my left. I glance down the right, there is no one and the door at the far end is open onto the training and exercise yard. Reaching his bridle down I slip the bolt on the door to Diable’s box door and sidle in calmly and quietly. I whisper nonsense to him and he stays calm as I slide the bridle over his massive head and he takes the bit without jibbing, there is no need to untether him he is loose boxed and I lead him out.

  
Sensing freedom Diable dances and skitters for a moment and I hold my breath then glance around to see if we have been noticed, but no one has seen, and he settles as we walk to the mounting block beside the door. I remove my circlet, veil and fillet simply dropping them on the ground then with the reins in one hand I clamber onto his back. He sidles and sidesteps but I keep my seat and adjust my skirts to keep my legs free. He is so broad I feel like a pea rolling on a drum and hope to God my legs will prove long enough and strong enough to keep me well seated on the ride home. The slightest kick and he springs forward all muscle and power, he is trained to react to the lightest touch, but I have no fear of him. As I ride from the training yard into the courtyard I hear a shout telling me to stop. “Shit”, Raymond is crossing to the stables and has seen me.

  
“Isabé rein up and stay where you are.” His command bellows out and everyone in the yard stands stock still and watches.  For a moment I hesitate then wheel the stallion sharp left towards the main gates. “Isabe,” He roars out again but I touch my heels to Diable and he surges through the open gates, in no time we are flying down the cart track heading for the road to the Manor.  
Raymond can’t believe his eyes, fury and fear rise in him as he sprints across the exercise yard and into the stallion stables yelling and cursing.

  
“Who in Christ’s name allowed Mam’selle Pelletier to ride out on that brute of mine?” there is no answer. “Get your arses out here now” his roar echo’s around and the lads come running from all parts of the stables.

  
“Sieur?”  One young lad starts speak and Raymond grabs him by the front of the tunic and hauling him up until only his toes scrape the ground.

  
“I said which witless, fucking arsehole allowed Mam’selle Pelletier to ride out on Diable?”

  
Pale faced, the lad croaks out “I swear I don’t know Sieur, on my Mother’s life I swear.” From the others there is a chorus of “Not me’s and don’t know’s”  With a growl of exasperation, Raymond lets go and the boy drops to the floor in a crumpled heap, by the time he’s shaken himself sensible, Sieur Raymond de Merville is up on Voluceur the saddle and bridle are left hanging and  he is riding hell for leather after Isabé, hoping to God that Diable hasn’t unseated her and done what he is trained to do with fallen men, trampled her into the ground. 

 

A tall, black haired figure with eyes as blue as Raymond’s steps out from the shadow of the pentice, turning he flips a silver coin to the page behind him.

  
“I may need you again, in which case there will be more of the same, now bugger off back to Fournier and not a word.” The eyes glitter and an unpleasant smile settles on his lips; wisely the boy runs back to the chamber.

 

  
* My God you both look as if you have been eating sour apples


	25. Chapter 25

Théo clears the stairs two a time. There is purpose in his stride, but his expression gives no hint of the malicious glee that bubbles inside him. He is hoping to enter the King’s chamber unchallenged, feeling that as he is now an envoy to the King, it is his right; he is mistaken. He is within two strides of the door, when to his amazement the guards step in front of him snapping to attention and blocking his way.

For a few moments Theo simply glares at them, but they aren’t cowed and won’t give way, these are seasoned men, it would take more than this jumped up prick to face them down.  
“I have business with His Majesty, urgent business, stand aside.” Théo growls, but it carries no weight. “I said stand aside.” His anger is beginning to rise, as he takes a step forward so does the taller of the two guards.  
*“Ce n'est pas possible Maître Fontaine, Sa Majesté a donné des instructions pour qu'il ne soit pas dérangé.”

Théo cannot read the guard’s expression, but he hears the disdain in his voice and sees the hard stare locked on him from dark eyes either side of a nasal bar. For all his position, Théo Fontaine has no rank and no real status, he’s is still “Master Fontaine”  
“This is important you fool; His Majesty will wish to hear what I have to say.”  
“Master Fontaine, please do not give me cause to set hands on you, perhaps it would be best if you returned later, of course you are welcome to wait.”  He gestures to the chairs beside the door. The look Théo shoots him is venomous and he is about to call their bluff but thinks better of it.

The Envoy judges a tactical retreat preferable to a forced removal; there’s no doubt in his mind that the guards would manhandle him down the stairs at the least provocation. Scowling, he settles himself down into one of the chairs and the indignity of being made to wait like a naughty child twists in his gut.

When Raymond reaches the fork in the road, he reins Volucer to a halt, Isabé is nowhere to be seen. The fingers of his right hand are threaded into the mane and he pulls gently, shifts his weight a little as he exerts pressure with his right thigh and eases off with his left. The young stallion responds immediately and turns clockwise in a full circle, Raymond needs neither saddle nor bridle, and he sits as relaxed and secure as if he were glued.

Scanning to the left, he knows this is the road that Isabé would most likely take, as it leads directly to the Manor, the right would take her along the edge of the city and he’s damned sure she hasn’t taken that route and doubled  back. Ahead is another way, though it’s nothing more than a track that runs up the hill and peters out half way along the side of a large wood which marks the Eastern most boundary of Henri’s land. He twists his mouth into a wry smile and decides that she would have taken the main route, though he’s worried, he should have caught sight of her by now and there is no sign, not even a lost veil to mark her passage, he noticed she had left that at the stables. Without thinking he presses his left hand to his chest, to where the folded grubby linen of the veil he took to Paris, is tucked under his tunic.  
“If I know you Isabé, you have run straight home, and gone to ground there.” Another shift of weight, a light touch of heels and Volucer springs forward then almost immediately Raymond stops him. Something has caught his eye, he squints and looks up the hill towards the edge of the wood, but there’s nothing, a trick of the light most likely then just as he starts to turn away, he sees it again and grins. Still seated on Diable, Isabé is just inside the wood, almost camouflaged by the dappled shade of the trees.

If any of his men could see him now, they would be more than amused to see the soft expression on his face. He raises his hand not sure if she has seen him and whispers to himself. “Take your time Isabé, take your time” Then he turns the horse onto the Manor road and canters away.

It is a little cooler in the shade of the trees, my own vanity has made me stop and watch to see if Raymond follows me; he does. From my vantage point I see him look around and check each route, before he heads off on the Manor road. At first, I am relieved that he hasn’t spotted me, but it only lasts until he halts again, looks up towards the wood and raises an arm in acknowledgement. He knows where I am and my breath hitches as I wait for him to ride up to me, but he simply turns Volucer around and canters away again. Relief gives way to something else, vexation because he hasn’t charged up to me, growling at me that I should change my mind and demanding I ride back to the Chateau and annoyance at myself for even wishing that he had.

“Damn you Raymond, well you can kick your heels at the Manor I shan’t hurry, and I hope Henry’s wine chokes you.” But of course, I’ll rush, I’m not about to let that surly bastard put too much of his case before I can put mine. Henri and Blanche are great friends of his and I shall have to face all three of them now. So rather than take the meandering paths through the wood, I ride hell for leather down the track and onto the main road, I shan’t be far behind him.  
Théo is bored, irritated and not to mention offended as he sits picking at his fingers waiting to be granted access to the King. Suddenly the guards stand to attention and Theo is on his feet before the door opens. Baron de Merville, accompanied by the King step into the passage way laughing together.

“Well Gauthier, it will be the talk of the year that Raymond has finally allowed himself to be snared and by such a slip of a thing as Isabé Pelletier.”

“Indeed Sire, though I’d stake the Chateau and its contents, that he’s a more than willing victim. Believe me she is more than a match for my son, he won’t ride roughshod over her that’s for certain and she has a great deal of good sense in that young head.”

Philip glances sideways at his newest Envoy and as he catches Théo’s smug look his heart sinks a little, but nonetheless he smiles. “Fontaine what brings you here, I had not expected you see you so early in the day.” “ _You traitorous, arse licking, Bastard”_

Théo bows missing the look that passes between Gauthier and Philip. Almost everything he does grates on the King but keeping this man under scrutiny is not only a necessity, it is a priority.

“Forgive the intrusion Sire, but I have received some information from an impeccable source, information which I’m certain will be of interest to you and indeed to you Monseigneur Baron.”

“Very well Fontaine, I shall hear you out.” Philip turns on his heel and heads back into the chamber accompanied by the Baron. Fontaine is left to bring up the rear.

The King settles into his chair, quickly waves away his page and pours wine for himself and Gaultier, but none for Théo, he knows it will rankle, he knows it’s petty, but Théo will have to bear it. There is absolute silence in the room and as the page disappears through a small door concealed behind a tapestry, Théo frowns at his back. Twisting and turning the stem of his wine cup the King stares at his envoy, God how he loathes the man. The more time that passes, the more it reminds Théo that he is the King’s servant who, despite his new position has no title, little status and he may not even speak until Philip allows it.

“So, Fontaine what is this information that you are so impatient to impart?”

Théo hesitates as if it distresses him to speak and his face settles into a mask of feigned concern.

“For Christ’s sake spit it out man.” Philip growls, he can’t be bothered to keep up the pretence of civility and is certain that whatever Fontaine has to say to him, it has nothing to do with what is happening in the South, he is already fully appraised of that sorry situation.

“Sire, Monseigneur” It is with regret I must inform you that Mam’selle Pelletier has advised Sieur Raymond she will not marry him and only minutes ago she rode out from the Chateau on a stolen horse. A moment of silence is broken by a crack of laughter.

“Horseshit!” Baron de Merville laughs at Théo. “Your pardon Majesty but I can’t believe anything so ridiculous and besides, if it was a black mare she was riding, it’s hardly stolen seeing that it was a gift from Raymond.”

“I assure you Monseigneur Baron, Mam’selle it was adamant in her decision and the horse she rode out on was Sieur Raymond’s Courser.”

“Diable?” Gaultier shakes his head in disbelief “Now I know you’re talking bollocks Fontaine, she’s brave but she’s not a fucking idiot.” He flashes another look at Philip, it’s a silent apology for his soldiers’ language, Philip simply grins and waves away the remark, he has picked up on Gauthier’s game, for they already know that Isabé has left with Raymond in pursuit.

“I assure you Sire, Monseigneur, it is perfectly true.

“Well you did tell me she is headstrong.” Philip gives a throaty chuckle, but it dies quickly “So, Théo, I assume you know what occasioned this monumental change of heart in Mam’selle?

“Indeed Sire.” He quirks his mouth in a small smile. “No more than thirty minutes ago Mam’selle learned the identity of her Father.” Like an orator Théo pauses for effect and watches as the two men look at each other, then back at him.  
“You are certain this is what has made her bolt, it seems most unlikely that such a discovery would unsettle someone of Isabé’s mettle.”

“Monseigneur, Mam’selle Pelletier is certain that the identity of her Father would..” he hesitates. “She feels it would make the match unacceptable to both you and his Majesty and is reported as saying that she doesn’t wish to bring disgrace on the de Merville name preferring to leave of her own accord, rather than be dismissed and perhaps held up to ridicule.”

“And this is your important news?” Phillip shakes his head in disbelief, but Theo either hasn’t noticed, or has chosen to ignore the King’s sarcasm and replies calmly. “Not quite all Majesty I am sure you will be interested to learn that Mam’selle Pelletier’s father is Sébastien Leon Fournier.” He turns to the Baron. “Your Seneschal Monseigneur."  
“It might surprise you, Fontaine but I do know who Fournier is.” Gaultier answers drily.

With a solemn expression on his face, Théo waits, and further waits for the expected outcry of disbelief and a loud confirmation that the marriage can’t be allowed to take place; the silence is excruciating.

Finally, Phillip places his wine cup oh so carefully on the side table and speaks. His voice is low, and quite amiable but his displeasure is obvious in his choice of some less than regal language.

“Fontaine, is this what you call information, do you think I raised you to the position of Envoy just so that you could come running to me with fucking “town well” gossip, tittle-tattle rattled off by old crones and housemaids? I don’t pay you to peddle this shit. When I appointed you in place of the late but not much lamented Geoffroy Maçon, it was because I believed you to be an intelligent and resourceful man; a man who knew exactly what his remit and sphere of operations would be, perhaps I was mistaken?

"No, Your Majesty, you are not mistaken, the fault is entirely mine.” God how the words stick in his craw.

Philip continues, “Troops left Lyon for Bézier two days ago, where are they now, how does Arnald-Aumery fare and that arse of a fortune hunter de Montforte, is Raymon-Roger Trenceval still digging his heels, do you know? More importantly what is John up to over in England, and that bastard Otto? Set up your network, give me information I can use.” Of course, the King knows the answers to all those questions, knows his Envoy has a string of spies working on entirely different matters, but he watches Fontaine closely.

Struggling to keep a tight rein on his temper, Théo knows an answer is required and he gives it. His tone matches the penitent expression on his face as he manages to keep the acid out of his voice.

"But Majesty, I felt sure that you, and indeed you too Monseigneur Baron, would wish to know this, I understood that you both had misgivings about the match and was only seeking to….

Théo is cut short.

“This is of no interest, let me be clear, I require information, as my Envoy you not only represent me, you have access to highest ranking officials and the lowest of the low, all of whom will doubtless sell their souls, never mind information for the right price. Now shape your fucking ideas or you’ll be out of my service with the toe of my boot up your arse and I’ll have you shovelling shit in the stables. Let Raymond have his pretty, headstrong village maid to warm his bed, she will be a good match for him.”

A laugh rumbles up from Gaultiers chest.

“Sire, my son can be most persuasive when he chooses, he is used to “Gentling” wayward fillies”

Philip smiles across at him but the instant he turns back to Fontaine, the smile disappears, his eyes glitter cold and hard as he takes a slow swallow of wine whilst Théo stands pale faced and rigid before him. “Do I make myself plain Fontaine?”

“Indeed, Sire and I shall endeavour to serve you well.” His teeth are not quite gritted, his jaw not quite clenched, but the hatred and loathing in his eyes is unmistakeable.

“If you will permit Majesty, I have a question for Master Fontaine.” Philip nods his agreement, “Certainly de Merville.”

“Théo, what did you hope to gain by divulging this information hein? It may not be common knowledge that you once had a liaison with Isabé, but I know of it. Did you assume that if the marriage was forbidden, Raymond would renounce her, and you would step into his boots? If so, you are a fool, it would take a far better man than you to fill them. Trust me Fontaine, come Saturday Raymond and Isabé will be married before, God, Family and the people of Rouen.”

Théo stares at a point behind Gauthiers left shoulder, how the hell did the Baron know of their affair, but his jaw drops slack as The King speaks again.

“One more thing, the information you brought, was already gathering dust when you entered my chamber, we had already discussed the matter before you arrived. When the name of Isabé’s Father becomes common knowledge, and it will, you are to make it known that neither I, nor Baron de Merville have any objections to the match. Now you may go Fontaine and remember my warning.

“Majesty,” is all Théo can manage, he bows low and leaves the chamber racking his brains as to how they could have known so quickly that Isabé had fled. Then he remembers the page and he actually laughs, he has been bested by a twelve year old.

Raymond has barely reined Volucer to a halt before he is sliding down from the stallions back, rather than make his way to the main door he strides across the yard to the kitchens; young Julot is the first to spot him.

“Sieur, may I help you?”

“No need boy, I know where I’m going.” The smell of cooking makes Raymond’s stomach grumble he snatches up an apple from the basket just inside the kitchen door, he knows Blanche won’t begrudge him. “I need to speak with your Master and Mistress.

“They are in their private chamber Sieur.”

“Is anyone else with them?”

“No Sieur just the two of them.” Julot is about to add something when he turns away and looks into the courtyard, Raymond has heard it too, another rider.

If the stable lads and grooms are taken by surprise when I gallop around to the back of the Manor only moments after Raymond, they don’t show it. My hair is tangled, and my skirts are up to my knees, but they are used to my ways. As I rein up, I catch sight of Raymond, he is lounging in the kitchen doorway and as he sinks his teeth into the crisp flesh of an apple, the look he shoots me is just plain lewd, and I shiver.

“You took your time chérie, I felt sure you would be here before me.” He slings the half eaten apple into a swill bucket.

I slide from Diable’s back and before I take two steps Raymond is beside me, shouting across to the groom.

“Don’t bother Hugh, I’ll stable this brute.”

“As you wish Sieur.”  He returns to his companions to continue his meal.

“Looks like trouble.” Alain the youngest grooms croaks out, trying not to chuckle.”

“Oh, I would put money on that boy.” Hugh laughs outright, do you know who that brute is? “That my lads is Diable, Sieur Raymond’s Courser one of the finest stallions in the area, Christ knows where Mam’selle got up the nerve to ride him, he’s known for being an evil tempered old sod.”  
Alain sniggers “A bit like his master then, I wonder if Mam’selle will learn to ride that miserable bugger as easily.” Hugh smacks him across the back of his head, but laughs himself as he adds, “I’ve no doubt she’ll know how to take him in hand and put him through his paces.”

Raymond takes the reins in his right hand, with his left he takes hold of my arm, digging his fingers into the flesh above my elbow. A slight smile curves his mouth, He may seem pleased to see me, but his eyes tell an entirely different story. They are cold, like blue ice. “We have things to discuss Isabé and I have no mind to do it in front of Henri and Blanche.”

Raymond still has hold of my arm as we walk to the farthest end of the stable, dropping the reins he spins me around and slams me into the wall, the wood is hard against my back.

“Don’t move, don’t speak.” Even with the main door open, my eyes aren’t yet accustomed to the light, but I don’t need to see Raymonds face to know he’s angry. Above all else Raymond is a soldier, and even after such a short ride, he makes me wait as he checks each of Diable’s legs and feet in turn before leading him into the stall.  
I stand where he left me, for a moment we just stare at each other, then he grabs me by the shoulders and shakes me. “Satan’s arse Isabé what in Hell possessed you to ride Diable, Christ I have soldiers under my command who won’t go near the bastard, yet you lead him out and ride away on him as if he’s no than a child’s pony.”

“Then don’t you think that says more about your men than about me?”  I sound more confident than I feel. He doesn’t reply in words, but his kiss says everything. It speaks of anger, relief, and in the last soft brushing of lips it speaks of love. “I could have lost you Isabé, why must you be so reckless, so fucking headstrong?”  He shakes his head. “If you had fallen, he would have trampled you into the ground and I can’t bear to lose you, I won’t lose, you especially not to this crack brained idea you have that there won’t be a wedding.”

He weaves his long fingers in my hair, and I wince a little was they come against knots and tangles.My eyes are accustomed to the darkness now, I can make out the planes and contours of his face, his glittering eyes, I don’t need to see the colour they will be blue as blue. He sighs as he presses his forehead against mine and despite myself, I wrap my arms around his neck as I hear a catch in his voice.

“There will be no objection to Fournier, and you should return to the Chateau with me and beg his forgiveness for your harsh treatment of him. I’m ashamed of you, he is a fine man, a good man and your behaviour was disgraceful, you disappoint me Isabé.”

That he is disappointed, hurts me more than anything else he has said; I step back from him as if he’s slapped me. When I answer my voice is waspish. “I was angry, with him I wanted to hurt him, and I’d sooner walk away from this wedding than be made to leave; let me walk away Raymond.”

“Never,” he pulls me back into him, my hands are flat against his chest and I can feel the rapid beat of his heart. “I love you Isabé and you are stuck with this old Soldier for good or ill.” His lips brush mine as he speaks. I hear the growl in the back of his throat as he settles his right hand in the small of my back then slides it down to cup my arse, his left hand strokes gently up and down my back, as he teases my mouth with soft, soft kisses, gently sucking at my lips, the briefest touch of his tongue to mine, nips of strong teeth along my jaw, down my neck. I tilt my head back craving more, he pushes the neck of my gown as far aside as it will go and sinks his teeth into my shoulder making me hitch my breath. The pain subsides as he bites more gently and steadily sucks at the skin.  
“Now you are marked as mine.” Without another word he takes hold of my hand and leads me across to the manor.

We make our way through the kitchen and up the into the hall towards Henri and Blanche’s private chamber, the door is ajar and soft laughter floats out.

“Isabé, Raymond, I had not thought to see you before the wedding day.” Arms wide, Blanche steps towards me and gathers me into an embrace kissing my cheeks. Raymond takes her hand and presses the back of it to his lips.   
“Henri, Blanche we thought it was best to come straight to see you, Isabé has some news that you should hear.” The slightest frown creases Blanche’s brow.

“Two things Maman, firstly, I know who my father is and secondly because of that there will be no wedding.”

Henri seems struck dumb, Blanche gasps, whatever any of them had expected it wasn’t that.

“Isabé” Raymond growls out my name, he had been convinced I would change my mind. “What the hell are you saying?”

“I’ve already said I shan’t marry you; your father will never allow it, let alone the King and you can’t convince me otherwise. A bastard brat with a nobody for a mother and a servant for a father. I have nothing in my lineage to recommend me as your wife.

Henri snarls at me. “How dare you show such disrespect to your Mother Isabé” He points his finger at me. “I will not allow it, not under my roof, and you have been harsh and discourteous to your Father. He is not here and cannot defend himself, but you will apologise to your Mother, NOW! I should put you over my knee and wallop your arse.”

Raymond bites at the inside of his mouth then drawl’s out “That would make no difference Henri, I’ve tried.”

Tears of anger prick my eyes. “You, are my Father Henri, far more than Fournier ever was; you raised me, taught me, put clothes on my back, what did he ever do?”

My head snaps back as Blanche slaps me hard across the face and snarls. “Grow up Isabé, you know that’s not true, I told you as much. I could not on my word of honour reveal his name, I had made a promise, but I told you of the man, or were you not listening. When you were small there was barely a day that Sebastien did not visit, as for everything else, nothing was done without his approval and he contributed as much as he could. Don’t you dare let me hear you say such things again.” Henri slides his arm around Blanche’s shoulder drawing her close into his side. Her shoulders heave and there are tears just ready to spill onto her cheeks.

I look at Raymond, he has stood by quietly as we played out our family squabble, now he fixes his blue eyes on me and I can’t look away from him.

“Go home Raymond, go back to the Chateau, I will send for my things tomorrow.” I rub my right hand against my cheek to ease the stinging of Blanche’s slap.  
He curls his long fingers around my wrist and his grip is so tight it is painful as he pushes me towards a chair.

“Sit!”

“I’m not a dog.”

“No, Isabé but you can be a real bitch.” He stands before me thumbs looped through his belt, Henri and Blanche cast a look each other and smile, married life for Raymond and Isabé is unlikely to be dull.

“Stay here overnight if you must, I shall make your excuses, after all what could be more natural then you wanting to spend time with your Mother before the wedding?”

I huff out my breath and look away from him.

“Tomorrow morning, I will send Jehanne and Guillaume to you, Jehanne will bring you a fresh gown and prepare you for your return, then she and Guillaume will escort you home; I shall expect to see you no later than midday. Firstly you will visit Fournier, and you will beg his forgiveness for your shameful behaviour, then you will spend the rest of the day with the ladies of the court, you will be gracious and polite”

I roll my eyes and snort in disgust. Raymond ignores me and continues. “And you will entertain the King at the evening meal, oh and please for the next two days at least, I would be grateful if you could pretend to be a well brought up young women and not some wilful little hoyden.”

I am rigid in the chair, fingers white knuckled as I clutch at the arms, foot tapping on the floor in annoyance and I can feel my face burning.

_"How dare he speak to me as if I was some disobedient housemaid?_ ” but when I flick my eyes up to his, I see laughter lurking there.

“Your life would be so boring without me Raymond, and remember I told you I will never be a simpering little wife so stop ordering me around.” He doesn’t rise to the bait but retorts drily. “I take it that you have just agreed to the wedding?”

I frown at him, as I realise I have walked into my own trap, there is laughter in his eyes.

“Let memake it plain Isabe. At 10 o’clock on Saturday morning you and I will stand before the Cathedral doors and we will be declared husband and wife, our marriage will be blessed before the High Altar and you will return to the Chateau as Madame de Merville.”

I nod, and he holds out his hand, as I grasp it he adds. “I should tell you, Nicolette will be most annoyed If we don’t marry, she has quite taken to you and isn’t at all happy that she might not get to wear her new gown, surely for that reason alone we should do this hein?

“Oh of course, what better reason could there be?” I laugh up at him and he brushes his fingers down my cheek then issues a warning. “If you aren’t beside me on the Cathedral steps at the appointed time Isabé, I will come looking for you and I warn you I will carry you there hobbled, tied and draped over my saddle.” I had oddest feeling that he would do it.

“If you will excuse me Blanche, Henri I must take my leave.”  He tightens his grip on my hand. “Walk to the stables with me, there are things I wish to say to you.”

The lads are nowhere to be seen and we are no more than half way to the horses when Raymond turns me and pushes me against the stable wall. The solid wooden boards unyielding against my back.

“So, what is it you wish to say to me Sieur Raymond?” Even in this light I can see his eyes are blown dark surrounded with just a narrow band of blue.

Hands skim up my sides and he brushes his thumbs under my breasts, barely touching them but it’s enough, and my breath hitches in my throat.

“It pleases me that your body yields so quickly to my touch Isabé.” His voice is lower than I’ve ever heard, there is something feral about it and God help me it excites me. I follow his eyes downwards to where the hard points of my nipples strain against the fabric of my gown, and watch he rolls each one between his finger and thumb sending sharp, sweet pains shooting down to that one little point and I can already feel the wetness between my thighs.

Suddenly there is a change. The air crackles, his mouth is fierce, bruising, as he rakes his teeth over my tongue and lips, with one hand he cradles  my head and I can’t help but wrap my arms around him, returning his kisses like for like; I feel as if I will burn to white ashes. Without warning Raymond drops to his knees, takes hold of my gown and pushes it up. As he plants a kiss on each knee he uses his shoulders to push my legs wider apart and Holy Mary Forgive me, but I take hold of the hem and lift my skirts even higher giving him leave to trail hot kisses up my inner thighs, grazing the delicate, pale skin with his beard.

Frowning he looks up at me then back down again, as he traces a finger up and down over the long scar on my right thigh, then follows the mark with gentle kisses as if doing so would make it disappear. I shudder as he traces his tongue along the crease between thigh and hip, and plants kisses along each side of the triangle of dark curls. I hear him take in a deep groaning, shuddering breath.

“Sweet Christ, the scent of you is heaven.” His face pressed against me, he breathes in again then blows out his breath slowly, it stirs the hairs, feels cool over my wetness and he chuckles as I shudder, squeaking out his name. 

I don’t remember leaving go of my dress, but my right hand is threaded through his hair now, my fingers digging into his scalp trying to guide his mouth to where I want it.  As I look down at him through heavy lidded eyes, he smiles up and then is serious. His voice is no more than a rough whisper.  
“Isabé, I have never in my life forced a woman, if you wish me to stop I will, you have only to say and I will hear.”

It seems time hangs still as he waits for my answer.

“Don’t you dare, don’t you damned well dare stop.” My voice is no less a growl than his.

He braces his left forearm across my hips as he parts me with his tongue and the first touch of him makes me mewl and whimper as I try to push my hips forward. * “Patience ma Chérie, avoir de la patience.” My pleasure will be at his pace and he is skilful as he sucks, laps and nips, teasing me with his wicked tongue, the feel of his beard against the sensitive flesh. My mind closed to everything but the feel and sound of Raymond, he shifts and lifts my right leg settling my thigh on his shoulder. “So wet Isabé, I could drown in you.”

With his eyes locked to mine he traces a finger down through the dark hairs, smiles as he slides it between my folds and gently on into the warm wetness, another finger follows and profanities, pleas to God and Raymonds name tumble from my mouth as he sets a gentle, yet relentless rhythm assaulting my nerves with fingers and tongue. My legs are shaking, I have to force myself to breathe, my back arches and hips buck as time and again he brings me almost to that point of release. I can barely stand, my leg lacks strength, and I feel I might die burning in this fire. My mind won’t think straight, I need that blessed release and Raymond is taking his own sweet damned time.

“Raymond please,” I am begging him now, my voice rises higher, louder. “Fuck, Raymond I beg you Pleeease,” The last world comes out as a long keening wail.

“If you wish my darling, since you have asked so nicely.” His grin is almost wolfish, though his voice washes over me like a soothing balm as he steadies me with his free hand on my hip, pushing me more firmly against the planks. Tongue and fingers in unison, he changes tempo and soon I feel that tightening in my stomach and legs. All I can hear is the sound of my own harsh, rapid breathing. Finally, I shatter, my body is flying apart. Back arched, body rigid, his name flies out of my mouth and bounces from the walls I don’t care that it is so loud they might well hear it in the city.

I can’t think, can’t speak, I feel Raymond rest his cheek against me, as he strokes his right hand up and down the back of my thigh, keeping me steady he lifts my leg and gently sets my foot to the ground then smooths my dress. Rising to his feet he cradles me to his chest, I hear the echo of his heart pounding, his breath is hot as he brushes his lips against my hair. Thank God he holds me tight, else I’m sure I would either fly or fall.

Brushing strands of damp hair from my face his voice is so gentle as he whispers, “My beautiful, beautiful Isabé, my nearly wife.” And his kiss is as soft as his words. As I taste myself on his lips, I moan into his mouth and he holds me so tightly I can feel his own arousal, his hard cock pressed against me.  
“What about you Raymond?” I slide a hand between us and settle my palm against the hard heat of him, but he takes hold of my wrist, and lifting my hand to his mouth, kisses and nips at the base of my thumb. 

  
“My sweet girl, there will be time enough, my desire was to give you pleasure and it is enough for me to know that every time you look at me between now and our wedding night, you will remember how you fell apart with my mouth on you and my fingers inside you. I want you to remember the taste of yourself on my lips and to know that you’re mine Isabé, as I am yours and there is better to come.”

 

  
*“That is not possible Master Fontaine, His Majesty gave instructions that he was not to be disturbed.  
* “Patience my darling, have patience.


End file.
